Through Muggleborn Eyes: Year Five
by Kris Pilar
Summary: OWL Year is starting for Bryt Watkins and her friends, though it's only one of their worries as the new DADA teacher seems determined not to teach them anything useful, forcing them to take matters into their own hands to defend themselves against danger.
1. A Short Stay

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize. All that belongs to JKRowling.

* * *

The sky outside was a bright blue and only broken that the occasional small puff of white clouds. It was a perfect for a chance to try and forget about the terrors that had happened only two weeks prior. At least for a little while.

Fifteen-year-old Bryt Watkins took advantage of this. She was walking along one of the London streets, trying not to think about what happened during the Triwizard Tournament, and what resulted from it. Bryt chose to push the thoughts from her mind the best she could, but it only brought up thoughts of what was happening now.

It had only been a week since the summer vacation started but a lot had happened. The _Daily Prophet_ was painting Dumbledore as insane and Harry Potter, one of Bryt's closest friends, as an attention-seeking nutter. To add to it, Bryt had received a letter from her boyfriend, Ron Weasley, that his father had gotten into an argument with one of Ron's brothers, Percy, and Percy was apparently no longer speaking to the entire family. Ron didn't specify in the letter what the argument was about, but Bryt was sure it had to do with what had happened a couple of weeks before—especially considering how ambitious Percy was. A year ago, Bryt wouldn't have thought it. But after seeing everything that had happened with Barty Crouch and his son, Bryt didn't have much doubt that, if it came to it, Percy would put his job above his family. And it seemed he had.

Bryt desperately needed a distraction and having Sofí García around would be a perfect way for it, which was why Bryt was glad Sofí and her brother, Julio, were arriving that day to spend the summer with her.

One year older than Bryt, Sofí was the type of girl who was best described as a hyperactive accident waiting to happen. She was constantly smiling and making jokes, giving her this way of cheering anyone up—usually by annoying the hell out of them until they were more focused at yelling at her instead of thinking about their troubles. Even though Bryt knew Sofí her entire life, she still had no idea if Sofí did these things purposely, or if she was just naturally the type who seemed clueless to others' worries. It was hard to tell with that girl.

It was late afternoon when Bryt finally arrived back at her house, which sat at the end of a street near the edge of London. She noticed her younger brothers, twins Mike and Drew—who were almost as different in personality as they were identical in appearance—were sitting in front of the house while Drew's black-and-white cat, Merlin, was curled up in Drew's lap.

"Dad's gone to get Sofí and Julio," Mike said as Bryt came up, "Mom's working on supper. She's upset again."

Bryt sighed. Every day for the past week, Mrs. Watkins became annoyed when Bryt received the _Daily Prophet_, and she had been just as annoyed when Bryt's barn owl, Joey, had arrived with Ron's letter about Percy. Mrs. Watkins had loudly insisted on one afternoon that she didn't want to hear anything about the magical world. Bryt had thought her father had been able to talk Mrs. Watkins and get her to be okay with the wizarding world after Voldemort's return two weeks before. Apparently, it hadn't worked so well.

'_She probably thinks that if she ignores it, she can pretend it's not real,'_ Bryt thought. She had gone through something very similar, though it had involved her feelings towards her long-time friend and now boyfriend.

"I'll be sure not to say anything to make it worse," Bryt said, stepping past her brothers to head inside. As she got closer to the kitchen, she could hear her mother running water inside. Bryt stepped into the archway to see Mrs. Watkins was filling a pot, and a frying pan with ground beef was already on the stove.

"Anything I can help with?" Bryt asked. She wasn't much of a cook, but she still felt she should offer.

"Spaghetti's not hard to make, I'm fine," Mrs. Watkins said without looking up, "Sofí and Julio'll be here soon, you'll want to talk with them."

Bryt sighed, knowing her mother wasn't in the mood to talk. Instead, she turned and went to her room. She'd only been home for a week, but Bryt's school supplies were already scattered around the room. Bryt ignored the mess, flopping down on her bed and closing her eyes. She was sure that she had dozed off because the next thing she knew, someone was flicking on and off her light overhead.

Bryt groaned, opening her light brown eyes and looked towards the doorway, where Sofí was standing at the light switch. She was grinning brightly and Julio, her one-year-older brother, was standing beside her. Bryt grinned, sitting up and crossing her legs as she ran a hand through her chopped-short blonde hair.

"About time you woke up," Sofí said, coming over and sitting on Bryt's bed. Half-Hispanic, both Sofí and Julio were tall—both at least a foot taller than Bryt's four-foot-eight—and both had black hair and dark brown eyes.

"Glad you could get here," Bryt said.

"Just in time, too," Julio replied, "Yer mom's not that happy right now, and Mr. Watkins is tryin' t'calm her down."

"What happened?"

"Mr. Weasley's here."

Bryt blinked in surprise. Though Bryt's father and Ron's father were friends, Mr. Weasley didn't come over much. At least, not while Bryt had been home for the holidays. Bryt swung her legs off her bed and went towards the hallway just as she heard her mother yelling from the living room directly across the hall.

"Absolutely not! Bryt hasn't spent a holiday home in nearly two years! I'm not gonna let her go spend the summer away again just because you think it's important!"

"Amelia—"

"No, Greg! Bryt's staying home this time! That's final!"

Bryt, Sofí and Julio went towards the living room, where Drew and Mike were already standing, and glanced in. Mrs. Watkins was standing near the fireplace, her back to the door as she was facing Mr. Weasley, who was dressed in ordinary Muggle clothing. Mr. Watkins was standing next to his wife, obviously trying to calm her down.

"Maybe we should just hear him out, Amelia," Mr. Watkins said.

"Please, Amelia," Mr. Weasley said, "I can't explain everything to you, but this is important. I assure you, Bryt will be perfectly safe with us—"

"Like she was last year at that World Cup?" Mrs. Watkins snapped.

Mr. Weasley didn't seem to know how to respond. He glanced around, then seemed to notice the group in the doorway. Mr. and Mrs. Watkins turned as well. Bryt's mother stared at them, her face tense, then turned back to Mr. Weasley.

"Bryt's not going," Mrs. Watkins said simply.

"Can't I have a say?" Bryt asked, coming in, "I want to know what's going on."

"I can't say here," Mr. Weasley said before Mrs. Watkins could lash out again, "Just that it has to do with..." Mr. Weasley trailed off with a glance towards Sofí and Julio. Bryt had a good idea what was going on.

"With Voldemort?" Bryt asked and Mr. Weasley flinched, "Why do only I have to go? Are we in danger?"

"No, no you're all safe," Mr. Weasley said reassuringly, "This is Dumbledore's orders. He wants you to spend the summer with us—"

"I'll say again, it's not happening," Mrs. Watkins snapped.

"What about my friends?" Bryt asked, "Sofí and Julio're spending the summer here with me. I can't leave without them. Besides, they already know everything."

Mr. Weasley looked over at them for a moment, but finally nodded. "I don't think Dumbledore would mind a few extra hands around."

"I want to go, Mom," Bryt turned towards her parents, "If Dumbledore wants this, it's important."

Mrs. Watkins was glaring towards Mr. Weasley and Mr. Watkins sighed, taking his wife by the arm.

"You can go, Bryt, I'll talk this over with your mother," he said, "Go get packed."

Bryt nodded, turning and heading back to her room before her mother could start yelling again. Sofí and Julio followed close behind.

"What d'you think Dumbledore wants?" Julio asked.

"No idea," Bryt said, starting to pack up her things as quickly as she could, "It's got to be important, though. I just hope Mom won't be too mad."

"She looks like our mom when we start talkin' about school," Sofí said and Bryt sighed. She didn't like the idea of her mother becoming fearful of the magical world.

"Hopefully Dad'll calm her down," Bryt said, closing her trunk. Julio offered to take it for her and Bryt went to say goodbye to her family. Drew and Mike both gave her hugs, saying they'd try to see her on the Hogwarts Express. Mr. Watkins kissed Bryt on the forehead and told her to be careful, while Mrs. Watkins simply gave a stiff 'take care' and left the room. Bryt sighed, trying to push back the pang of disappointment. For a moment, she thought about saying she wasn't going to go, but then reminded herself that Dumbledore wanted her to stay with the Weasleys for a reason.

Bryt gave a last goodbye, then picked up Joey's cage and headed outside where Mr. Weasley was waiting.

"Are we gonna Apparate?" Bryt asked as she stopped with Julio and Sofí, who both had just got their suitcases from the Watkins family van. Bryt wasn't looking forward to it if they were. She didn't like Apparating.

"Yes, though where we're going is still in London," Mr. Weasley said and Bryt exchanged a surprised look with her friends.

"We're not going to the Burrow?" Bryt asked, wondering why Dumbledore was going to have Bryt stay somewhere that was in the same city she lived in already.

"No, I'll explain when we get there," Mr. Weasley said, "C'mon, let's get going."

Bryt sighed, reaching out and taking Mr. Weasley's arm as he held it out. She let out her breath, held it, and closed her eyes in preparation. One short, uncomfortable experience later, the four were standing in an alley, where Mr. Weasley was pulling a piece of parchment from his pocket.

"Here, read this," he said, holding it out, "But don't say it out loud, just memorize it."

Confused, Bryt, Sofí, and Julio leaned over to read the piece of paper, which simply had 'The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London' written on it in a very neat handwriting that reminded Bryt a little of Julio's.

"Ord—ouch!" Sofí hissed as Julio elbowed her hard in the side. Bryt glanced up at them, wondering the same thing as Sofí was obviously about to ask. What was the Order of the Phoenix?

"Just keep that address in mind," Mr. Weasley said again, setting the note aflame, "C'mon, we're almost there."

Bryt nodded and followed behind Mr. Weasley, still holding Joey's cage in her arms as Julio carried his own suitcase and dragged Bryt's trunk. As they walked along the street, Bryt's mind went back to her mother. She couldn't help but think Mrs. Watkins would never have let Bryt leave, no matter what Mr. Watkins tried to say or what Bryt thought, if she had been told that Bryt would still be staying in London. Bryt couldn't blame her. If they were still in the same city, why couldn't Bryt have just stayed home and visited every now and then?

Though as Bryt looked around, she noticed they were definitely in an area of London she hadn't been to before. It could be this was a place that would be too far for Bryt to walk daily, as Bryt had become very familiar with the area around where she lived.

"He we are," Mr. Weasley said, stopping halfway down a street. Bryt, Sofí, and Julio all stopped as well.

But as they looked up, they noticed there was a number eleven, Grimmauld Place, and a number thirteen, but no twelve.

"Mr. Weasley," Julio said, "Where's—"

"Just concentrate on that note," Mr. Weasley said with a grin, "You'll be fine. I'd love to help you settle in, but I really must get back to the Ministry. I risked enough leaving as long as I did to get you here, but we figured we had the best chance if I talked to your parents, Bryt."

Bryt nodded as Mr. Weasley left. Considering Mr. Weasley's friendship with Bryt's father, he definitely was the best choice to talk with Bryt's parents. Bryt doubted the conversation would have gone as well as it did, despite turning into a loud argument, if Mr. Weasley hadn't been the one who came.

Bryt looked back between Sofí and Julio, then back to the buildings in front of them and did as Mr. Weasley instructed, thinking hard on the address on the piece of paper.

Slowly, houses eleven and thirteen seemed to separate, a new building forming in between them. Once it fully emerged, Bryt blinked, looking to Sofí and Julio. Both of them had apparently seen the same thing. Julio looked impressed and Sofí was grinning.

"That was awesome," she said, "C'mon, let's go."

Bryt nodded, starting up the steps. Not feeling comfortable with just walking right in, Bryt reached up and rang the doorbell, then jumped as she heard someone shouting on the other side of the door. Bryt couldn't quite make out what was said, but she was almost sure she heard the word 'mudblood' used.

"I'm not sure we're in the right place..." Julio said. Bryt agreed. Why would they be going anywhere where someone seemed fond of the racial slur for Muggleborn witches or wizards?

"I wish Mr. Weasley hadn't have left so quickly," Bryt said, "Come on, I can write a quick letter to Ron and maybe he'll send someone to help."

Bryt turned and was about to start back down the stairs when the door opened behind them.


	2. Grimmauld Place

"Bryt, it's wonderful to see you again."

Bryt turned around to see Mrs. Weasley standing in the doorway, though she didn't seem nearly as cheerful as Bryt remembered, and she could have sworn the woman looked a bit thinner. Bryt figured this was probably partly due to the argument with Percy and his estrangement from the rest of the family.

Though Bryt couldn't help but wonder what Mrs. Weasley was doing at this place.

"Oh, who're your friends?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking between Sofí and Julio. It didn't surprise Bryt that Mrs. Weasley didn't recognize them. After all, she only saw Sofí and Julio briefly two years ago.

"Sofí and Julio García," Bryt explained, "They're staying with me over the summer. Mr. Weasley said Dumbledore wouldn't mind them coming, too."

"Of course, they're welcome here," Mrs. Weasley said, ushering them inside, "Just stay quiet in the hall, we don't want to wake her—" Mrs. Weasley nodded to a curtain nearby, "—up again."

Bryt nodded, though she gave the curtain a confused look. She pushed the thought aside as she looked back at Mrs. Weasley, about to ask about Ron.

"Ron's upstairs," Mrs. Weasley said, seeming to guess Bryt's thoughts, "He and the others are cleaning the bedrooms."

"Are Hermione and Harry here?" Bryt asked, noticing Sofí smirking out of the corner of her eye. Luckily, she kept quiet.

"Hermione will be here soon," Mrs. Weasley replied, starting to herd the three towards the stairs, "Head on upstairs, Ginny's cleaning a room for you, her, and Hermione. Sofí and Julio, just pick a room and settle yourselves in."

Bryt looked back at Mrs. Weasley, about to ask about Harry again, but she had left down the hallway already.

"Harry's probably already upstairs," Julio said, "C'mon."

Bryt nodded. She turned and started up the old staircase, trying to move gingerly as the stairs creaked under their weight.

"Wow, I hope this thing don' collapse on us," Julio said.

"No kiddin'," Sofí agreed, smirking at Bryt, "Bet it could at any moment, though."

Bryt rolled her eyes, though she was a bit worried. Just how old was this place? As Bryt looked around, she could tell the place was obviously in shambles. It reminded Bryt of the Shrieking Shack at the edge of Hogsmeade Village. As they reached the first landing, she tried to avoid looking at one wall, which was decorated with heads of house elves. The beheaded house elves, plus the shouts she heard when she first approached the house, Bryt couldn't help but feel this place was very unwelcoming.

And they were supposed to spend the summer here?

"Gonna be a very cheerful summer, ain't it?" Sofí asked, making a face as she looked around.

"We'll manage somehow," Julio replied, a disturbed look on his face as he glanced at the wall of house elf heads.

One of the doors along the hallway opened and Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger, and only, sister, appeared in the doorway. Her long red hair was pulled up in a sloppy bun and her face and clothes were covered in dust.

Out of all of Ron's siblings, Ginny was the one that Bryt got along with best—even though she only started becoming close friends with Ginny within the past year.

"Bryt!" Ginny said happily, "Mum said you were coming today. And Sofí and Julio are here, too! It's great to see you two again."

"Same," Julio said with a grin.

"I was just taking a break from cleaning out this room," Ginny said, motioning over her shoulder, "It was going to be for me, you, and Hermione, but with Sofí here, too..."

"Don' worry 'bout me," Sofí said, grinning, "I'm fine on my own."

"We definitely don' need that," Julio said, "Sofí and I'll share."

"Then you can pick a room and start cleaning," Ginny said, "Just be careful and keep it locked—Kreacher's been sneaking around."

"Kreacher?"

"The house elf here," Ginny explained, "Didn't Mum or Dad tell you what this place is?"

"No," Bryt said, shaking her head, "Just the note Mr. Weasley gave us said this was the Order of the Phoenix. What is that?"

The doorbell rang and Bryt could hear the screaming again downstairs.

"That's most likely Hermione, I'll tell you all everything in here," Ginny nodded to the room she had just come out of as she started down the stairs. Bryt nodded and went into the room as Sofí and Julio followed.

The room looked to be in just as bad of a condition as the hallways, though there were considerably less cobwebs and dust. It was obvious Ginny had done a good bit of work already. Bryt took her trunk from Julio and pulled it to one of the three beds in the room before she put Joey's cage—with him still in it—on top of the wardrobe. Sofí plopped down on one of the beds, rolling so she was laying on her stomach, and Julio sat on a separate bed.

"This is gonna be a long summer," Bryt said, looking around the room.

The door opened a second later and Bryt looked up, expecting to see Ginny and Hermione, but instead saw Ron—who seemed just as dusty as his sister, even to the point that it was graying his vivid red hair—in the doorway. Bryt grinned brightly. Even though it had only been a week, Bryt was glad to see her boyfriend again. She went over to him and leaned up on her toes to kiss him lightly on the cheek—which gained a whistle from Sofí and Bryt glared over at her.

"When'd you get here?" Ron asked, looking at Bryt. He seemed as pleased to see her as she did to see him.

"Just now," Bryt said, "Where's Harry? Isn't he here already?"

"No, he's still at the Dursleys," Ron said, sitting on the empty bed and Bryt sat next to him.

"Is he comin'?" Julio asked. Ron shook his head, but before anyone could say anything else, Ginny came back in with Hermione.

Hermione, with her bushy brown hair and knack for almost always knowing what to say, was definitely Bryt's closest friend—and the one Bryt confided in with things she didn't dare tell anyone else. Even Sofí.

Julio grinned brightly at Hermione, getting up and coming towards her to take her trunk for her as Hermione put down her large tabby cat, Crookshanks. Once the two sat together on one bed, with Hermione taking Julio's hand in hers, Ginny sat next to Sofí on the third bed.

"Why isn't Harry coming?" Bryt asked.

"Mum says Dumbledore wants him to stay at the Dursleys for now," Ron said, though he obviously wasn't happy about it. Bryt wasn't, either.

"So, what's the Order of the Phoenix?" Bryt asked, deciding it would just be better to change the subject.

"It's this organization Dumbledore founded," Ginny replied, "During You-Know-Who's last rise to power. They fight against him."

"But why is it here?" Julio asked, looking around the peeling wallpaper and ruined rug, "This place ain't exactly..."

"It's a pit-hole," Sofí said. Julio glared at her.

"But Julio's right," Hermione said, "This place doesn't seem very reasonable for such an organization. Especially with whatever was yelling when I rang the doorbell."

"Yeah, that yelling happened when we came, too," Bryt said, looking at Ron, "What was that?"

"A painting," Ron answered, "We've been trying to take it down since we got here this morning, but we haven't had any luck. Sirius thinks a Permanent Sticking Charm was used."

"Sirius is here?" Bryt and Hermione asked together. Julio and Sofí both looked at Ron curiously. Neither of them had met Sirius, but they knew enough about him from the stories Bryt and Hermione had told them.

"This is his place," Ginny said, "He offered it to Dumbledore to use as a headquarters."

Bryt felt a wave of relief go through her for a moment. Sirius being here meant he was no longer on the run, living off of rats and garbage. He actually had somewhere to stay—even if the place was in shambles.

"They're supposed to have a meeting tonight," Ron said, sounding disappointed, "But Mum won't let us sit in. She says we're too young."

"Never stopped me before," Sofí said simply, grinning at Julio now, "She can' stop you, yer of age—"

"She's stopping Fred and George," Ginny said, "And they're of age."

"But Julio ain't her kid," Sofí said bluntly, "She ain't gotta say over him."

"What could I do fer the Order, though?" Julio asked, "I mean, in a few months, I'll be back at Salem."

"Dad says Dumbledore's trying to get foreign wizards into the Order," Ron said, "He's already got Charlie, but he's looking for other connections as well."

"I'd say it's worth a shot," Bryt said, "It'd be a great way to find out what's going on in the meetings."

Julio looked over at Hermione, as if seeking her permission. She simply nodded and Julio nodded himself.

"I'll go ask," Julio said, standing up and heading out of the room.

Eager to know if Julio would succeed, the others followed, though they stayed grouped together at the top of the stairs.

A loud pop came from behind the group and Bryt and Hermione both let out a yell, spinning around to see Fred and George were behind them. Both of them were grinning mischievously.

"Problems, girls?" George asked innocently.

"Just you two trying to give us a heart attack."

"They've been Apparating every few feet ever since they passed their test," Ron said irritably.

"Why walk when you can Apparate?" Sofí asked with a laugh.

"A girl after our own hearts!" Fred said, giving Sofí a mock bow.

Bryt rolled her eyes. She was only just now realizing that spending a summer with the Weasleys meant that Sofí García was going to be in the same building as Fred and George Weasley for weeks. At least this meant the summer would be interesting—despite how annoying it was obviously going to end up before long.

'_At least Sofí doesn't go to Hogwarts,'_ Bryt thought with slight relief.

"So what brings all of you to these lovely stairs?" George asked, "Admiring the décor?"

"Waiting on Julio," Ginny said, "He's asking if he can join the Order. If he can get in, he'll be able to tell us what the meetings are about."

"And here we were looking forward to testing our Extendable Ears," Fred said.

"Extendable Ears?" Bryt and Sofí asked.

Before Fred or George could explain exactly what Extendable Ears were, Julio came back up the stairs. It was clear on his face that he didn't have good news.

"No luck," Julio said, "They all say it don' matter I'm of age. I'm still in school, so they won' let me join."

"Looks like we'll get to try the Extendable Ears after all," Fred said. George nodded in agreement, then disappeared with a loud pop. It was only a few seconds before George reappeared.

"You could've jus' walked to yer room," Julio said.

"Done this already," Sofí said, "Apparatin' saves time."

"Yeah, all of thirty seconds," Julio replied, rolling his eyes.

"Shh, someone's here," Ginny said, leaning on the railing and looking to the floor below.

Bryt followed suit and saw two young witches had arrived, who both seemed drastically different in appearances from each other. The first was dressed in a worn-and-patched style that reminded Bryt a little of how Julio dressed, and her hair—which wasn't much shorter than Bryt's—was purple. The second woman was much more normal. She was a black woman wearing a denim jumper dress over a long sleeved shirt and had her hair in multiple braids that went halfway down her back. The two women went on down the hallway, probably towards the kitchen, and it wasn't much longer before more people began showing up. Bryt noticed each of them were a lot more normal-looking than the purple-haired witch.

There were also people Bryt recognized coming in. Dumbledore—the Hogwarts headmaster—McGonagall—her Transfiguration teacher—Remus Lupin—their third year Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher(and Bryt's favorite)—Mad-Eye Moody—an auror who Bryt thought had been her last Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, only to learn he had been locked in a trunk with an escaped Death Eater impersonating him—Bill Weasley—Ron's oldest brother, who had recently began working at the Diagon Alley Gringotts. Fred and George both believed he did this to be closer to Fleur Delacour, who recently began working there as well. Snape, the Potions professor that Bryt still wasn't completely convinced he was actually on their side—especially with his extreme hatred of Bryt's friend Harry—was the last to arrive, and Bryt heard a door shut after Snape disappeared down the hallway.

"Time to give these things a test run," Fred said, starting to feed some type of flesh-colored string over the banister, crouching down.

Everyone gathered around him, but it was hard listening in when there were eight people grouped around one small object. There was occasionally interference when someone moved, but over the next hour, they were able to get a good understanding of what was happening.

The Order members talked most often about some type of guard duty. Bryt was curious about what they were guarding, and why it was so important. It had to be something crucial to the war for it to be such a high priority for the Order.

Bryt glanced around, wondering if the others were as curious as she was. She had a good feeling they were.

'_Wish Harry was here,'_ Bryt thought. She knew he'd want to know about what was going on. She didn't understand why Dumbledore wanted Harry to stay at the Dursleys. It didn't feel right being here without him.

At least Bryt and her friends would keep Harry up-to-date with letters. And hopefully Harry would be able to come to Grimmauld Place soon.

"They're coming out," Fred whispered, pulling up the Extendable Ear. He and George disappeared with a loud crack, but Bryt and the others stayed where they were, hoping to get another look at the members of the Order as they left—and possibly eavesdrop on a little more of the conversation.

Unfortunately, the people below were talking too lowly for them to hear anything—most likely to not wake up the portrait that was behind the curtains. Bryt and her friends could only watch as the people slowly made their way out the front door—and Bryt couldn't help but notice neither Dumbledore nor the purple-haired witch had left.

"We better at least pretend we haven't been here the past hour," Ron said quietly, "Mum'll kill us if she finds out we were eavesdropping."

Bryt nodded and the group quietly made their way back to the room that Bryt, Hermione, and Ginny would be staying. It wasn't that much long after when Mrs. Weasley came in.

"Dumbledore wants to speak with all of you in the kitchen before he leaves," she said.

Bryt exchanged a surprised look with her friends. After all, in Bryt's four years at Hogwarts, she could count on one hand the number of times she had been in any type of conversation with the headmaster—and each of them involved serious events.

"I wonder what this is about," Hermione said, starting out of the room. Bryt followed behind, wondering the exact same thing.


	3. Nightmare and Cleaning

Bryt cut open her baked potato, allowing the steam to rise up, but she didn't eat any. Dumbledore had left only minutes before, and Bryt was still annoyed over the conversation.

Dumbledore had wanted to talk to them only to tell them not to write Harry about anything involving the Order of the Phoenix. They had all protested, insisting they couldn't keep everything from him—Bryt being the loudest protester—but Dumbledore insisted it was in Harry's 'best interest' to know absolutely nothing about what was going on.

This didn't sit well with Bryt at all. She didn't like the idea of keeping something as big as the Order, and the fact that they were all here without him, from him like this. It wasn't right.

Though it wasn't like Bryt wasn't already keeping such big things from Harry. At that thought, Bryt glanced towards Sirius, who was talking with Fred and George. Even though he seemed in much better health than Bryt remembered him being while on the run, Bryt still felt the worming guilt that came any time she thought about the night at the end of her third year.

Bryt looked down at her food, trying to push the thoughts away. All she could tell herself was that keeping the truth about her mistake from Harry was her own choice—it wasn't something someone else insisted on.

"C'mern, Bryt, cheer up."

Bryt looked across from her to see Sofí with her usual bright grin. Bryt swore that the world could end and Sofí would still be the same bubbly girl as always—nothing seemed to get her upset and she rarely ever showed her serious side.

"Y'should see what Tonks can do," Sofí nodded next to her to the purple-haired witch—Nymphadora Tonks, or Tonks as she preferred.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said from next to Bryt, "You're a metamorphmagus!"

Bryt looked up and blinked in surprise. Tonks's hair was no longer short and purple—it was now long and black, and she was grinning at Bryt in a way that seemed very similar to Sofí's.

"How'd you do that?" Julio asked.

"As Ron said, I'm a metamorphmagus," Tonks said, crossing her eyes for a moment, and her hair suddenly turned back to short and purple. Bryt stared in awe.

"Can anyone do that?" Bryt asked.

"Lookin' to add a little to yer height?" Sofí asked with a smirk.

"Actually, I thought it'd be cool to change my hair like that."

"Why? You're hair's fine the way it is."

Bryt smirked at Ron.

"Coming from the guy who thought it was a crime that I cut it last year."

Ron flushed and stared down at his food, muttering something under his breath. Sofí started giggling.

"Unfortunately, it's not something someone can learn," Tonks said, "It's something you're born with, and they're very rare. I've never met another."

"Somethin' like that comes in handy, I bet," Julio commented.

"Oh yeah," Tonks said with a grin, "I passed the Concealment and Disguise part of my auror training without even trying much."

"You're an auror?" Bryt asked, surprised. Tonks, with her worn-and-patched clothes, spunky purple hair, and cheerful personality, didn't in any way match Bryt's mental image of what an auror was.

Of course, the only auror Bryt had ever met before was Mad-Eye Moody. She should have known that he was most likely not the norm for aurors.

Tonks grinned at Bryt.

"Just qualified last year," she said.

With that, the conversation turned towards what it was like being an auror, and Tonks demonstrating more of her metamorphmagus abilities. It was a nice distraction for Bryt, allowing her to take her mind off of her worries for a couple of hours.

It was late when Mrs. Weasley finally insisted it was time for bed. Bryt yawned, feeling very tired suddenly. She followed her friends upstairs and gave Ron a quick kiss on the cheek before heading into the room she would be sharing with Hermione and Ginny.

The three girls changed into their pajamas, then Ginny went and locked the door, saying it was to keep Kreacher out. Bryt was too tired to think much on it and crawled into bed, eager to get to sleep.

_A scream. Bryt felt herself turning, seeing Wormtail standing nearby with Ron's wand, aiming it at the boy. A flash of light, and Ron was on the ground, staring blankly at the sky. Bryt let out a yell, running for her friend and bending over him, begging in her mind that Ron wasn't dead. _

_Movement off to the side caught Bryt's attention. She turned quickly, seeing Wormtail smirking, then begin shrinking as he transformed into the familiar rat that had terrorized Bryt for three years._

_Her mind screamed at her to lunge forward, to grab the rat and keep Wormtail from escaping. Every fiber in her being knew it's what she had to do._

_But she didn't. She sat frozen, her eyes locked on the rat as it scurried within inches from her and disappeared into the darkness of the Hogwarts grounds._

_It was her fault. Wormtail escaped because of her. Sirius wouldn't be free. Harry wouldn't have the family he deserved. Because Bryt couldn't overcome a stupid fear for two seconds..._

_Everything began to waver and fade. The world went black around Bryt, but it wasn't long before things came back into focus. Harry and Ron were in front of her, both with their arms across their chest and glaring._

_They were both angry. They both hated Bryt now. Harry claimed he could never trust her again. Ron was calling her a coward. Both hated her. Neither wanted anything to do with her anymore._

_Bryt could feel the sting of tears in her eyes, but she set her face, refusing to give in. She didn't deserve to cry. She was getting exactly what she expected—exactly what was due to her. She had been a coward. Harry and Ron were right to hate her..._

"Bryt, it's time to get up. Mum has breakfast ready."

Bryt's eyes shot open and she found herself staring up at Ginny, whose red hair was falling down around her shoulders. She was in her bed in Grimmauld Place.

'_A nightmare,'_ Bryt thought with relief. It had only been a nightmare.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked, looking worried.

"I'm fine," Bryt said, forcing a grin, "Just this place ain't exactly very 'homey'. Leads to a bad night."

"I understand that," Ginny said with a nod, glancing around the decaying room, "Hopefully after we get some more cleaning done, this house will start to look better."

"It's gonna take a ton of cleaning," Bryt noted, "And a lot of throwing stuff away, I bet."

Ginny gave a small smile.

"I'd definitely like to start with those house elf heads in the hallway," she said, "Anyway, get dressed. Like I said, Mum has breakfast done, and she wants an early start on cleaning."

Bryt nodded, and swung her legs off the bed as Ginny left the room. As Bryt changed, her thoughts went to her nightmare. It wasn't the first time she had nightmares—or even this specific nightmare—about the night Wormtail escaped. But it was the first time she had a nightmare about it in quite a while.

She had thought she had gotten used to the guilt over the past year. Being in such constant contact with Sirius during the Triwizard Tournament had helped Bryt deal with her guilt, and even though she knew she'd never forgive herself, she had at least been able to live with it easier. So why were the nightmares returning?

Bryt sighed, trying to push the nightmare from her mind as she ran a quick comb through her short hair. She headed down the stairs for the kitchen, finding herself hesitating as she got to the door when she noticed Ron sitting at the table, across from Julio and Hermione.

The nightmare came back. Ron calling her a coward, saying he hated her...It had been so vivid, felt so real...

Then Ron looked up at Bryt and grinned, motioning to the chair next to him. Bryt grinned, pushing the nightmare from her mind. It had been only that. A nightmare. She shouldn't worry so much on it.

Bryt made her way over, sitting next to her boyfriend and accepting the plate of bacon and eggs that Mrs. Weasley handed her.

"Got my KAE results," Sofí said instantly, waving a sheet of parchment in her hands and grinning brightly, "I think I did great, wanna see?"

Julio and Hermione both got a look on their faces that showed they both thought Sofí did far less than 'great'. Bryt grinned, knowing they were both perfectionists. Bryt took the parchment from Sofí, though, looking over it as she picked up a piece of bacon.

_KNOWLEDGE APPLICATION EXAMINATIONS_

_Scoring:_

_1 – Horrible_

_2 – Poor_

_3 – Average_

_4 – Great_

_5 – Extraordinary_

_Students are required to have at least a 3 in a class to pass to Career Application Placement Examinations Level._

_Sofí Samantha García has received five of nine attempted KAE subjects:_

_Astronomy – 4_

_Charms – 4_

_Dark Arts Defense – 4_

_Divination – 5_

_Herbology – 2_

_Magical Creature Care – 2_

_Magical History – 1_

_Potions – 1_

_Transfiguration – 3_

Bryt glanced over the grades again, to make sure she read them right. Somehow, she wasn't surprised that Sofí managed top marks in her Divination class. The girl had been obsessed with the subject for years. And Astronomy wasn't a surprise, either, considering all the star carts Bryt remembered doing in her own Divination class. It probably came in handy in Divination to know the layout of the stars in the sky.

"No wonder she blew up your cauldron that once," Ron whispered next to Bryt, pointing to the Potions grade on the paper.

"Like I said, I think I did great," Sofí said with a grin as she took the parchment back.

"You flunked four classes!" Julio said, "Two of which, y'got the lowest marks possible."

Sofí shrugged.

"Won' need 'em," she said, "I don'' even plan t'take Transfiguration CAPE-level classes, either."

"Not that y'could, you need a four to continue it."

"Fine, that's settled," Sofí said with a nod. Julio groaned.

"Don' y'_want_ to get a decent job?" he asked.

Sofí shrugged and Julio groaned again, obviously deciding not to push the subject further.

Bryt grinned. Even though Sofí didn't know it, she was cheering Bryt up now. It was a relief having Sofí around. Her knack as a distraction—just for being herself—was one of the many reasons Bryt enjoyed being around the girl. Despite occasionally wanting to knock her upside the head with a thick book.

Though Bryt had plenty more distraction over the day. Cleaning up the rooms in Grimmauld Place was a difficult task. And very time consuming. They spent most of the morning trying to clean the rest of the bedrooms, while also sorting through Black family heirlooms. Sirius was very keen on just tossing everything out. Bryt could tell that Sirius hadn't been on the best of terms with his family.

'_He probably isn't too happy to be here, then,'_ Bryt realized as she and Ron worked to clean out from under one of the beds. She had a strong feeling that Sirius felt trapped now, as if he were back in prison.

'_At least there aren't dementors here,'_ Bryt told herself. And at least Sirius was safe. There was no way anyone would be able to get to Sirius here. He wouldn't be caught.

And hopefully once the place was cleaned out, it would be a more welcoming place to live in. That would at least make things easier on Sirius.

They only took a break from cleaning once, for their lunch, and when they got back to work, they found they had another problem to deal with. Kreacher, the house elf Ginny had told Bryt about the day before. He was an ancient-looking elf and seemed to be losing his mind. He was constantly muttering to himself and Sirius twice caught him trying to sneak things from their bag of heirlooms that were to be thrown out.

Hermione and Bryt both insisted that the others should be nicer to Kreacher, and Bryt became increasingly annoyed with Sirius every time he started yelling at Kreacher and shooing him from the room. She and Hermione got into an argument with him once over his treatment of Kreacher, but it didn't get anywhere and Bryt finally had to go clean in a different room to cool her temper.

They finally stopped for the day when it came time for dinner. As there was no meeting from the Order that night, no visitors came by. Bryt was disappointed. She had been hoping to see Tonks again.

When it finally came time to head up to bed, Bryt was exhausted. Though as she changed to her pajamas and crawled into her bed, she had trouble getting to sleep. The nightmare from the night before came back to her mind and she was worried she would end up having it again.

Bryt sighed, rolling over onto her side and staring at the wall. It was so quiet, she could easily hear Ginny and Hermione breathing from their own beds.

Bryt didn't know if she could take an entire summer of nightmares. All she could do was hope that last night would be the only time. Or at least, the nightmares came sparingly.

'_Maybe I'll talk to Hermione about this tomorrow,'_ Bryt thought. She knew all Hermione would do was insist, once again, that what happened with Wormtail wasn't Bryt's fault, but it always helped to actually hear Hermione say it than just thinking about it.

Maybe Hermione was right. Even if Bryt had caught Wormtail, it didn't guarantee that Sirius would be free. Wormtail could have escaped again, or attacked Bryt as he had Ron. Not to mention the fact that Sirius had broken into Hogwarts on two different occasions and had been on the run from aurors. The wizarding world's law system was corrupt—Bryt knew that. Even if Sirius was proved innocent, he would most likely still be sent to Azkaban for the crimes he committed while on the run. There was no guarantee that Bryt could have changed anything.

'_But I still should have at least _tried_,'_ Bryt thought. Any time she started to think Hermione was right, that same thought always came back. No matter what, the guilt would always be there. Bryt doubted she'd ever forgive herself for that one mistake.

Bryt sighed again, closing her eyes and yanking her covers over her head as she tried to push the thoughts from her mind. She had another long day of cleaning ahead and she needed the sleep. She would just have to hope that her night would stay dream-free.


	4. Confrontation

The next week passed in a blur of routines for Bryt, spending the days cleaning rooms and evenings grouped with the others to eavesdrop on Order meetings before dinner. Though all they learned from their eavesdropping was that the Order was trying to recruit more members and constant talk of guard duty—which Bryt suspected to be over Harry, as apparently people were watching him at the Dursleys—and were keeping tabs on known Death Eaters. They probably would have learned more, but one of their eavesdropping was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley, who began yelling at them so loudly that she woke up Mrs. Black's portrait, and Mrs. Weasley tried to get a hold of Fred and George's Extendable Ears to throw them all way.

Occasionally, some of the Order members stayed for dinner, which led to interesting conversations. Bryt had learned one evening that the black witch she saw with Tonks the first night was Emily Hughes, and was an Auror herself. She had gone through training with Tonks, and, like Tonks, had only become an Auror within the past year.

They met yet another auror named Kingsley Shacklebolt, whom Bryt liked a lot. And Fred, George, and Sofí were getting along with a man named Mundungus Fletcher—a criminal, black-market dealer, from what Bryt could gather—as whenever he stayed for dinner, the four of them were always grouped together, talking and laughing.

Whenever Mundungus wasn't around, however, Fred, George, and Sofí still managed to stay entertained. Most times by comparing various pranks while they were helping clean out rooms. One such conversation led Sofí to charm Fred and George's clothes to change various shades of pink at random moments after she had told them about doing the same thing to a guy at Salem. Fred and George both found this amusing, though Bryt had a feeling that this would have turned into some type of prank war if it weren't for the fact that Mrs. Weasley was in the room with them, scolding them every time they got off track from cleaning.

Bryt was also still having nightmares, though luckily they weren't every night. After the third time—a couple of days after Bryt, Hermione, and Ron had sent Harry a birthday letter as well as birthday sweets—Bryt managed to get Hermione alone, as they were cleaning a room by themselves, to talk about her nightmare.

"I think it might be because of where we are," Hermione said.

"Why?" Bryt asked, "I mean, last year, we had contact with Sirius nearly daily, but the nightmares weren't nearly this bad."

"Well, you didn't actually _see_ Sirius," Hermione pointed out, making a face as she and Bryt finished flipping over a chair to clean out the dust underneath.

"But he looks a lot better here than he did in that cave," Bryt replied, "He has a place to stay now. Sure, it's run down, but we're cleaning it up. He's not on the run, living off of scraps."

"He's still trapped. He's still a fugitive. And it's obvious he wasn't fond of his family. He must hate being here."

Bryt made a face, but, oddly, that guilty worming was only a faint pang at the back of her mind. She turned her attention to her work, feeling odd about the fact. It used to be any mention of Sirius brought her guilt, and whenever talk came of Sirius's fugitive status made it so much worse. Even a week ago, that guilty worming came along strongly, and her nightmares.

'_Have I gotten that used to it?'_ Bryt thought, leaning back from her work to wipe sweat from her forehead and look around the room.

Or maybe Bryt was finally starting to believe Hermione's comments on what happened. Even though Bryt should have at least tried, she was beginning to accept that she couldn't change anything if she had acted.

It was an odd feeling. She had been so used to the guilt over the past year, she didn't know how to react to the fact that it was slowly subsiding.

'_Though I still won't tell Harry or Ron,'_ Bryt thought, turning back to her work again. She might be starting to accept what happen, but it didn't mean Harry and Ron would understand. It took Bryt over a year, and constant insisting from Hermione that it wasn't her fault. She had a feeling it wouldn't be nearly as simple for her friends. After all, she didn't have the such personal connections that they did. Wormtail had been disguised at Ron's pet for years. Sirius was Harry's godfather.

'_Maybe that's the real reason I'm having nightmares,'_ Bryt thought bitterly. After all, each time it warped into Harry and Ron hating her for what happened.

Bryt glanced at Hermione and was about to voice her theory, but Ron came in, looking tired as he told them that Mrs. Weasley had sandwiches done downstairs. Bryt brushed herself off as she got up, heading out of the room with Hermione. Bryt seemed to be right about Ron being tired as he was oddly quiet through lunch, though Bryt wasn't in much of a mood to talk herself, still going over her nightmare in her mind.

Bryt didn't get much of a chance to bring her theory about the nightmare up with Hermione. After lunch, she was with Ron, Ginny, and Sofí, trying to clean out another room, and cleaning up messes Sofí accidentally made when she'd go overboard on a cleaning spell, wrecking more than she was helping. If it weren't for the fact that Bryt was afraid of what Sofí would do if left on her own, Bryt would have insisted that Sofí stop helping.

Dinner was a relief for Bryt, as she was tired and sore. A week's worth of constant cleaning was taking its toll on her. Sure, she had plenty of hard work in classes at Hogwarts—especially Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures—but it wasn't all-day-long constant work like with cleaning this house.

The dinner table was a buzz of conversations as usual, even though Bryt didn't talk all that much, and Tonks was visiting that night. Bryt, Ron, and Ginny sat with her, enjoying her display of her metamorphmagi abilities while Ron asked questions on what it was like to be an auror. Fred, George, and Sofí were talking at one end of the table, and apparently Sofí's charm hadn't quite worn off yet as the two boys' clothes turned a faint pink after a few minutes, though neither seemed to pay it any mind. Hermione and Julio were sitting together, talking quietly with each other.

Tonks had been in the middle of telling Bryt, Ron, and Ginny one of her stories when Mr. Weasley suddenly came into the kitchen, a look on his face that reminded Bryt of the expression he had the year before during the night after the Quidditch World Cup.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" Mrs. Weasley asked, getting to her feet and hurrying over.

"There's been trouble," Mr. Weasley said in a rush, "Dementors showed up at Privet Drive. Harry managed to drive them off, but now the Ministry is going to hold a hearing. If that goes wrong, he'll get expelled."

Bryt dropped her fork and stared at Mr. Weasley in shock. Dementors? Dementors attacked Harry? Bryt looked around and noticed everyone seemed just as shocked as she did.

The next hour passed in a blur of confusion. Dumbledore had returned, and he was angrier than Bryt had ever seen him. Apparently, Mundungus was supposed to have been guarding Harry, but left for some deal in one of his illegal deals. Dumbledore wasn't happy at all over this, and was now working out a way to bring Harry to Grimmauld Place.

Mrs. Weasley started shooing Bryt and the others from the kitchen when this started, as it was "Order Business". Bryt headed upstairs, ducking into her room with Hermione and Ron as everyone else grouped around the top of the stairs to try and use the Extendable Ears.

Before any of them could say anything, however, Hedwig came flying in the window, dropping three pieces of parchment. All three of them had the same message from Harry, about the dementor attack, his impending expulsion, demanding answers, and how he was planning to leave the Dursleys soon.

"He can't!" Hermione said, "Dumbledore said he was safest there—"

"Not _that_ safe," Bryt cut in, grabbing a piece of parchment and her quill, "He was attacked by dementors."

"What're you doing?" Ron asked.

"Giving Harry answers, we can't keep this from him anymore."

"But...But Dumbledore made us swear not—"

Bryt spun around to Hermione.

"I can't keep this from him anymore!" she snapped, "Harry jus' got attacked by _dementors_, Hermione! _Dementors_! After that, he _deserves_ t'know what's goin' on!"

"Bryt, we can't," Hermione whispered weakly, he face pale.

"Why not?" Ron asked, crossing his arms over his chest, looking frustrated, "We've kept everything from him long enough, haven't we?"

"What if someone intercepts the letter?" Hermione asked, "And before you start, we can't even send my journal to try that way. We went through it before, we can't risk that."

Bryt glared at her friend.

"We _can't_ keep not tellin' him anythin'," she snapped, "It ain't right."

"You know as well as anyone that sometimes keeping something from someone is the best option."

Bryt tensed, gripping her hand so tightly her quill snapped. Hermione seemed to realize what she had said, and that she said it in front of Ron, because her eyes widened and she glanced over towards him next to Bryt. Bryt could tell from the corner of her eyes that Ron was looking between the two girls, confused, but Bryt wasn't about to explain.

"Fine," Bryt hissed, throwing down her broken quill, "We won' tell him."

"Bryt—" Hermione started, but Bryt cut her off.

"Yer right," she snapped, "Dumbledore seems to think it's best Harry don' know about the Order yet, we won' tell him."

Bryt sat down on her bed, crossing her arms across her chest, still glaring at Hermione. She seemed to think it best to leave, as she left the room slowly. A moment later, Ron sat on the bed next to Bryt.

"What was that about?" he asked.

"Nothin'," Bryt answered shortly.

"Bryt, I'm not an idiot," Ron replied, "That wasn't nothing. I saw that look Hermione got, and the one she gave me. What was she talking about?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Bryt replied, her anger starting to subside now. It was hard for her to stay angry at friends, especially Hermione. Still, she felt like avoiding talking to Hermione for a while, until she was sure her temper would stay in check—and that Ron wasn't around.

Bryt glanced from the corner of her eye and noticed Ron was still staring at her, a concerned look on his face, but he also looked a bit irritated.

"Ron, please," Bryt whispered, turning on the bed so she was facing him now, "This isn't something I want to talk about..."

"_Hermione_ obviously knows what this is about," Ron pointed out. Bryt flinched slightly at the sharp tone he used.

'_There's no getting out of it now, is there?'_ Bryt thought weakly, staring at Ron. Her nightmare came forefront in her mind now. She could easily recall Ron's yelling at her, calling her a coward...Saying he never wanted to see her again...

But looking at Ron now, Bryt knew he wouldn't let this go. If she didn't tell him, he'd take it as a betrayal. And he would be right. Bryt was his girlfriend. He should be able to trust her not to keep secrets.

'_And maybe I should trust him to understand...'_ Bryt told herself, staring at Ron. Besides, Hermione was always encouraging her that Harry and Ron would understand. She was right about not being able to change what happened with Sirius...Maybe she could be right about this, too.

Slowly, Bryt reached over and took one of Ron's hands in both of hers.

"Just...Please let me finish before you say anything," Bryt whispered, unable to look Ron in the face, instead focusing on her hands around his.

Bryt took a deep breath and slowly began to tell Ron everything—from her freeze-up when Wormtail escaped to her struggling guilt, Hermione's insistent reassurances that nothing would have changed, and finally to Bryt's nightmares and fears that Ron and Harry would hate her. Occasionally, Bryt would have to stop, struggling to figure out how to word what she said next or to take a deep, shaky breath as she fought back the tears stinging at the edge of her eyes that she refused to let fall. Never once did Bryt dare look at Ron's face for any hint of what he was thinking, though he did tighten his hand around Bryt's. All Bryt could do was hope that Hermione would be right about how Harry and Ron would react.


	5. Settling Matters

Uncomfortable silence hung over the two for what felt like an eternity to Bryt, but she still couldn't bring herself to look at Ron for any hint of what he was thinking. She sat still, her eyes closed now, and braced herself for Ron to begin yelling, to bring her nightmare to life.

Finally, Bryt couldn't take the silence anymore and spoke up herself.

"Please...just start yelling and get it over with," she said quietly, "I know you want to...I mean, it took me a year to deal with this...And..."

Ron pulled his hand free from Bryt and she swallowed hard before finally forcing herself to look up at him. He wasn't looking at her, instead staring blankly at the nearby wall. His face seemed conflicted—but Bryt couldn't help but notice he at least didn't seem angry.

"Can you...please...just say _something_?" Bryt asked weakly.

Ron started to open his mouth, but cut himself off as the bedroom door opened. Bryt looked over to see Hermione and Ginny coming in, Hermione looking uncomfortable.

"Mum caught us at the top of the stairs," Ginny said, "She's insisting everyone go to bed now."

Bryt looked back at Ron, hoping for any sign of what he was thinking, but he only gave a short nod and left the room. Bryt bit her lower lip, the threat of tears coming again and she fought to push them back. Ginny looked at Bryt curiously, but Bryt didn't pay much attention, looking over at Hermione.

Apparently, Bryt's anguish was clear on her face as Hermione turned pink and turned away quickly, busying herself with getting ready for bed.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked, looking between the two girls.

"Nothing," both answered, and Bryt changed into her pajamas, ignoring Ginny's looks as she yanked the covers over her head.

Somehow, Bryt was hoping that Ron had yelled at her. She would have preferred it to the silence and that odd look he had on his face...

**xxxxx**

The next few days were tense for Bryt. Ron seemed to be taking any chance to avoid her, always sitting where Bryt wouldn't be near him, and making sure he was never in a room alone for her to try and talk to him. Hermione was constantly apologizing for what had happened, and Bryt found herself unable to keep a grudge against the girl. It had been a slip of the tongue, after all. Besides, Bryt needed Hermione to rely on. Even though she was extremely close to Ginny, and the girl was constantly trying to comfort Bryt about the falling out with Ron, Ginny didn't know the full story. It wasn't the same as talking with Hermione.

The tension between Bryt and Ron hit its peak on Friday night, as they waited for Harry to arrive. The two of them were in Ron's room with Julio and Hermione and Ron was sitting on one bed, while Julio was on the other. Bryt was leaning on the wall, watching Ron—who was making a point to avoid her gaze—while she gripped her lucky chipped turquoise bracelet in her hands and Hermione paced the room.

"Hermione, sit down," Julio said, "Harry'll be here soon, yer makin' me nervous, doin' that."

Bryt noticed from the corner of her eye that Hermione had stopped pacing, starting to turn to Julio, but stopped and stared over at Bryt instead. Bryt tried not to acknowledge it, but she saw Hermione go over to Julio, leaning over to him and whispering something. Julio glanced towards Bryt, then to Ron, and back to Hermione before getting up and heading out of the room. Bryt tensed as the door closed behind him, as if she were being locked into a cage.

"I think it's about time we settle this," Hermione said simply, crossing her arms over her chest, "I'm tired of both of you sulking."

Bryt looked away again and she could hear Ron muttering something, but couldn't quite make out what he said. Hermione seemed to hear it, though.

"You have too been sulking," Hermione said, "Ron, can't you just forgive Bryt already? It's not her fault what happened. Can you honestly say you wouldn't have done the same if you were in her situation and it was a spider?"

Bryt noticed Ron tense, his face go red, and he looked away.

"Wormtail was desperate, he would have escaped no matter what happened," Hermione said, "Bryt wasn't going to change that. None of us would have been able to. If she had grabbed Wormtail, he most likely would have transformed back and attacked her like he did you, Ron."

Ron gripped his hands into fists at that, and Bryt felt a fleeting rush of hope as he glanced her way, but it disappeared again as he quickly looked away.

"Ron," Bryt started, walking over and sitting down on the bed next to him, finding a bit of relief in the fact that he didn't get up and walk away, "I can't begin to say how sorry I am about what happened...If I could change it, I would...I'd rather have taken a hit from some spell, to have at least done _something_, than have sat there while that bastard ran within inches of me..."

It was a long, uncomfortable silence as Ron stared down at his hands. Bryt watched him closely, rubbing her thumbs over the stones on her bracelet anxiously. Finally, Ron gave a weak shrug.

"Well, you _are_ afraid of rats," he said simply.

That one sentence was enough for Bryt to know Ron's thoughts. She gave a weak laugh of relief and threw her arms around Ron, grinning as she buried her face in his shirt. He was forgiving her...He understood what had happened. She had Ron back.

The door opened and Bryt and Ron both looked over to see Harry had come in, Julio right behind.

"HARRY!" Hermione cried happily, rushing over and nearly knocking Harry on his back in a hug, "Guys, he's here! Harry's here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how _are_ you? Are you all right? Have you been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless—but we couldn't tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got so much to tell you, and you've got to tell us—the dementors! When we heard—and the Ministry hearing—it's just outrageous, I've looked it all up, they can't expel you, they just can't, there's provision in the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations—"

Julio went over, gently pulling Hermione away from Harry and Bryt was giggling. She hadn't been this happy in a long time. She didn't know if it was the relief of finally seeing Harry again, or the relief of Ron forgiving her—maybe it was a little of both. She was just glad that everything was okay. Now that she had told Ron, though, she knew he'd want her to tell Harry. She could only hope he would be as understanding as Ron—even though it did take him nearly a week. That is, if he wasn't already pissed at them for not telling him anything in their letters. Bryt was expecting Harry to be very frustrated over that.

Now that Hermione had moved away, Bryt took a good look at her friend. He had gotten a bit taller over the past month, though his black hair was as messy as ever, still hiding the lightning-bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. He glanced around the room with his bright green eyes, but before he could say anything, Hedwig flew down from the top of the wardrobe and landed on Harry's shoulder.

"She's been in a right state," Ron said, getting up walking over to Harry, "Pecked us half to death when she brought your last letters, look at this—"

Ron held out his hands to show the healing cuts across his fingers. Bryt got up and walked over to stand beside him, just glad to be close to him again, as she slipped her bracelet back around her wrist.

"Oh yeah," Harry said slowly, "Sorry about that, but I wanted answers, you know..."

"I know," Bryt replied, "I almost wrote you right then when we got your last letter...We all agreed it wasn't right not to tell you, but Dumbledore didn't want us to."

"He seemed to think it was best," Hermione added when Harry looked as frustrated as Bryt had thought he would be.

"I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles," Ron put in also.

"Yeah?" Harry turned to Ron, "Have any of you been attacked by dementors this summer?"

"Well, no," Ron said, "But that's why he's had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time—"

Harry tensed slightly, and Bryt watched him closely. She was expecting him to start yelling soon—they would deserve it. After all, Harry had been cooped up at the Dursleys for a month, with no news from them.

"Didn't work that well, did it?" Harry asked, an odd edge to his voice, "Had to look after myself after all, didn't I?"

"He was so angry, Dumbledore," Hermione said quietly, "We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift ended. He was scary."

"Well, I'm glad he left," Harry said angrily, "If he hadn't, I wouldn't have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer."

Bryt bit her lower lip, leaning slightly on Ron as she stared at Harry. She could definitely understand why he was angry. She knew she would be in his shoes.

"Aren't you...Aren't you worried about the Ministry of Magic hearing?" Hermione asked.

"No."

Harry turned away, looking around the room. Bryt took the moment to look between Ron, Julio, and Hermione. Ron and Hermione's faces told her they were thinking along the same lines as Bryt—they had expected Harry to react like this. Julio was looking uncomfortable, as if he were unsure if he should be in the room with them at the moment. Considering Julio wasn't as close to Ron and Harry as he was to Bryt and Hermione—though he had become good friends with Ron over the past month—Bryt felt Julio was thinking he was intruding on a private matter.

"So, why's Dumbledore been so keen to keep me in the dark?" Harry went on, "Did you—er—bother to ask him at all?"

"Of course we did," Bryt said, "We were insistent that you shouldn't be left in the dark—that is wasn't right to keep this from you."

"But he just made us swear not to tell you anything," Ron said.

"We even thought about using Hermione and Julio's two-way diary," Bryt went on, "But Dumbledore was insistent."

"Maybe he thinks I can't be trusted," Harry said shortly.

"Don't be thick," Ron replied and Bryt elbowed him in the side. Ron could definitely have phrased that better.

"Or that I can't take care of myself—"

"Of course he doesn't think that!" Hermione said.

"So how come I have to stay at the Dursleys' while you lot get to join in everything that's going on here? How come you are allowed to know everything that's going on—"

"We're not!" Ron cut in, "Mum won't let us near the meetings, she says we're too young—"

Then came the moment Bryt was expecting. Harry straightened himself up and began yelling.

"SO YOU HAVEN'T BEEN IN THE MEETINGS, BIG DEAL! YOU'VE STILL BEEN HERE, HAVEN'T YOU? YOU'VE STILL BEEN TOGETHER! ME, I'VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS' FOR A MONTH! AND I'VE HANDLED MORE THAN YOU LOT'VE EVER MANGED AND DUMBLEDORE KNOWS IT—WHO SAVED THE SORCERER'S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF TOM RIDDLE? WHO SAVED ALL YOUR SKINS FROM DEMENTORS?"

Bryt tensed, gripping Ron's arm tightly as she bit down on her tongue. She knew Harry needed to rant, but it was hard listening to him yelling at them as if they sat back and did nothing the past four years.

"WHO HAD TO GET PAST DRAGONS AND SPHINXES AND EVERY OTHER FOUL THING LAST YEAR? WHO SAW HIM COME BACK? WHO HAD TO ESCAPE FROM HIM? ME! BUT WHY SHOULD I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON? WHY SHOULD ANYONE BOTHER TO TELL ME WHAT'S BEEN HAPPENING?"

"Harry, stop," Bryt said, fighting to keep her temper in check, "We wanted to tell you, but—"

"CAN'T'VE WANTED TO THAT MUCH, CAN YOU, OR YOU'D HAVE SENT ME AN OWL, BUT _DUMBLEDORE MADE YOU SWEAR_—"

"Well, he did—"

"FOUR WEEKS I'VE BEEN STUCK IN PRIVET DRIVE, NICKING PAPERS OUT OF BINS, TRYING TO FIND OUT WHAT'S BEEN GOING ON! I SUPPOSE YOU'VE BEEN HAVING A REAL LAUGH, HAVEN'T YOU, ALL HOLED UP HERE TOGETHER—"

"HARRY, SHUT UP!"

Bryt let go of Ron's arm, gripping her hands gripped in fists. She glared at Harry, fighting against a strong urge to punch her friend. She knew he needed to rant. She could take his yelling about how Bryt, Hermione, and Ron hadn't helped Harry at all the past four years, but when he accused them of enjoying keeping him in the dark, Bryt acted before she even thought about it.

"DON' Y'DARE, HARRY!" Bryt snapped, shaking off Ron's grasp when he put a hand on her shoulder, "_DON' YOU DARE_! WE'RE _FRIENDS_! WE AIN'T BEEN SITTIN' AROUND DOIN' NOTHIN' OR TALKIN' ABOUT HOW GREAT IT IS YER LEFT OUT! WE'VE BEEN WANTIN' T'TELL YAH 'BOUT THIS ALL ALONG! DON'! YOU! DARE! ACCUSE US OF EVER ENJOYIN' KEEPIN' THINGS FROM YOU!"

Harry just glared back at Bryt as a silence went over the group. Ron put a hand on Bryt's shoulder again, and Bryt could feel her anger start to ebb away. She leaned back against her boyfriend, watching Harry closely. She saw Hermione and Julio together, Hermione half-hiding against Julio as she stared at Harry.

Bryt stayed against Ron, watching Harry pace the room. She was starting to feel guilty about yelling at him. He had needed to rant. She shouldn't have lost it...Of course, Harry had just accused her of enjoying doing something that had been torturing Bryt for over a year now, even if indirectly by referring to the Order. He didn't know about Wormtail—and Bryt had a feeling, with Harry's temper, that she wouldn't be bringing it up with him any time soon. She just hoped Ron would be able to understand that.

There was a long, tense silence before anyone spoke up again.

"What _is_ this place anyway?" Harry asked, much calmer now, though there was still an edge to his voice.

"Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," Ron answered.

"Is anyone going to bother—"

"They're a society that yer headmaster started," Julio said, rubbing Hermione's arm slightly, "They're fightin' against You-Know-Who."

"Who's in it?"

"Loads of people," Bryt said, "We see them coming and going all the time, but we've only actually talked with a few of them."

"_Well?_" Harry asked suddenly, stopping his pacing and glaring at them. Bryt blinked in confusion.

"Er...Well what?" Ron asked.

"_Voldemort_!" Harry snapped and Ron flinched, his hand on Bryt's arm tightening slightly for a second, "What's he up to? Where is he? What are we doing to stop him?"

"We've _told_ you," Hermione spoke up, "The Order don't let us in on their meetings."

"I even tried joinin'," Julio offered, "But they all said I'm still in school, that I'm too young."

"So we don't really know much," Bryt went on, and Harry glared again.

"We've got a general idea, though," Hermione put in quickly.

The four of them told Harry what they knew about the Order from eavesdropping with Fred and George's Extendable Ears. Harry kept his gaze on them as they gave what little information they could, then he began pacing around the room again.

"So what have you been doing, if you're not at the meetings? You said you've been busy."

"Yeah, cleaning this place," Bryt said, "It was a lot worse when we first got here."

"We've managed to clean out the kitchen and most of the bedrooms, and I think we're doing the drawing room tomo—"

Hermione cut off with a yell as three loud cracks came from behind them. Bryt jumped as well, spinning around to see Fred, George, and Sofí behind them.

"Stop _doing_ that!" Hermione said. Sofí gave her an innocent grin.

"We could hear the yellin' from upstairs," Sofí said.

"You two don't want to want to bottle up your anger like that, let it all out," Fred said, grinning as he looked from Bryt to Harry, "There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn't hear you."

"You lot passed your Apparation tests, then?" Harry asked shortly, obviously choosing to ignore their comments—and referring to the fact that students in the United States received their Apparation license at sixteen instead of seventeen, like in the United Kingdom.

"Of course," Sofí said simply as Fred pulled out one of the few Extendable Ears he had left after Mrs. Weasley's attempt to throw them all away.

"It would have taken you about thirty seconds longer to walk down the stairs," Ron said.

"Time is Galleons, little brother," Fred replied, "Anyway, Harry, Bryt, you're interfering with the Extendable Ears. We're trying to hear what's going on downstairs."

"Better hope Mrs. Weasley doesn't catch you again," Bryt said.

"It's worth the risk, this is a major meeting they're having," Fred said as the bedroom door opened again. Bryt looked over to see Ginny in the doorway.

"Oh, hello, Harry! I thought I heard your voice." Ginny turned from Harry over to the twins. "It's no go with the Extendable Ears, she's gone and put an Imperturbable Charm on the kitchen door."

"How d'you know?" George asked.

"Tonks told me how to find out. You just chuck stuff at the door and if it can't make contact the door's been Imperturbed. I've been flicking Dungbombs at it from the top of the stairs and they just soar away from it, so there's no way the Extendable Ears will be able to get under the gap."

Fred sighed, running a hand through his hair. Bryt noticed Ginny glanced towards her and Ron and started grinning brightly. Bryt grinned in response.

"Shame. I really fancied finding out what old Snape's been up to."

"Snape? Is he here?" Harry asked, turning quickly to Fred.

"Yeah," George answered, sitting on one of the beds next to his twin as Sofí leaned against the now-closed door, "Giving a report. Top secret."

"Git," Fred added.

"He's on our side now," Hermione said in a tone that made it seem she thought that was all that mattered.

"He's still a git," Bryt said simply, sitting on Ron's bed next to him and leaning against him again.

"Bill doesn't like him either," Ginny said simply.

"I thought Bill was working in Egypt?" Harry asked.

"He's working at the Gringotts here now," Bryt said, "So he can help with the Order."

"He misses the tombs," Fred said, then smirking, "But there are compensations..."

Bryt rolled her eyes, giving a short snort as Fred and George explained about Bill's relationship with Fleur. Bryt was trying to think better of Fleur, but it was a hard thing to do.

"Charlie's in the Order too," George said, "But he's still in Romania, Dumbledore wants as many foreign wizards brought in as possible."

"Which is why I find it so strange they won' let me join," Julio added, "Despite the fact I'm still in school."

"Couldn't Percy help with foreign members?" Harry asked and Bryt tensed, glancing around at the Weasley siblings, Hermione, Sofí, and Julio.

"He's a bigger ass than that Snape guy," Sofí said simply and Julio shot her a glare.

"Whatever you do, don't mention Percy in front of Mum and Dad," Ron said.

"Why not?"

"Because every time Percy's name's mentioned, Dad breaks whatever he's holding and Mum starts crying," Fred answered.

"It's been awful," Ginny said with a sigh.

"I think we're well shut of him," George said darkly.

"What happened?" Harry asked, and Bryt had been curious about the details herself, but never found a good time to ask about it.

"Percy and Dad had a row," Fred said, "I've never seen Dad row with anyone like that. It's normally Mum who shouts..."

"It was the first week back after the term ended," Ron went on, "We were about to come and join the Order. Percy came home and told us he'd been promoted."

"You're kidding," Harry said and Bryt looked at Ron in surprise. After all that had happened over the last year with Percy's boss, and his lack of notice what was wrong with Crouch, Bryt would have figured Percy would have been fired, or at the very least demoted.

"Yeah, we were all surprised," George said, "Because Percy got into a load of trouble about Crouch, there was an inquiry and everything. They said Percy ought to have realized Crouch was off his rocker and informed a superior. But you know Percy, Crouch left him in charge, he wasn't going to complain..."

"Why was he promoted, though?" Bryt asked.

"That's exactly what we wondered," Ron replied, "He came home really pleased of himself—even more pleased than usual if you can imagine that—and told Dad he'd been offered a position in Fudge's own office. A really good one for someone only a year out of Hogwarts—Junior Assistant to the Minister. He expected Dad to be all impressed, I think."

"Only Dad wasn't," Fred added.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"Well, apparently Fudge has been storming round the Ministry checking that nobody's having any contact with Dumbledore," George explained.

"Dumbledore's name is mud in the Ministry these days, you see," Fred added, "They all think he's just making trouble saying You-Know-Who's back."

"Dad says Fudge has made it clear that anyone who's in league with Dumbledore can clear out their desks."

"Trouble is, Fudge suspects Dad, he knows he's friendly with Dumbledore, and he's always thought Dad's a bit of a weirdo because of his Muggle obsession—"

"But what's this got to do with Percy?" Harry cut in.

"I'm coming to that," Fred said, "Dad reckons Fudge only wants Percy in his office because he wants to use him to spy on the family—and Dumbledore."

"Bet Percy loved that," Harry said shortly. Ron gave a sarcastic laugh and Bryt squeezed his hand, looking up at him for a second.

"He went completely berserk," Ron said, "He said—well, he said loads of terrible stuff. He said he's been having to struggle against Dad's lousy reputation ever since he joined the Ministry and that Dad's got no ambition and that's why we've been—you know—not had a lot of money, I mean—"

Bryt tightened her grip on Ron's hand, glaring in front of her. She silently vowed the next time she saw Percy, she'd give him a good kick in the ass.

"_What_?" Harry hissed.

"I know," Ron said, "And it got worse. He said Dad was an idiot to run around with Dumbledore, and that Dumbledore was heading for big trouble and Dad was going to go down with him, and that he—Percy—knew where his loyalty lay and it was with the Ministry. And if Mum and Dad were going to become traitors to the Ministry he was going to make sure everyone knew he didn't belong to our family anymore. And he packed his bags the same night and left. He's living in London now."

'_Better not be anywhere near where I live,'_ Bryt thought angrily.

"Mum's been in a right state," Ron went on, "You know—crying and stuff. She came up to London to try and talk to Percy, but he slammed the door in her face. I dunno what he does if he meets Dad at work—ignores him, I s'pose."

"Damn git," Bryt hissed, tightening her grip on Ron's hand again.

"But Percy must know Voldemort's back," Harry said, "He's not stupid, he must know your mum and dad wouldn't risk everything without proof—"

"Yeah, well, your name got dragged into the row," Ron said slowly, watching Harry carefully, as if he expected Harry to start yelling again, "Percy said the only evidence was your word and...I dunno...he didn't think it was good enough."

"Percy probably believes all the crap in the _Daily Prophet_," Bryt commented, and she was proven right when the Weasleys all nodded.

"What're you talking about?" Harry asked and Bryt stared at him curiously.

"Haven't you been reading the _Daily Prophet_?" Bryt asked.

"Yeah, I have!"

"Have you—er—been reading it thoroughly?" Hermione asked.

"Not cover to cover," Harry said slowly, "If they were going to report anything about Voldemort, it would be headline news, wouldn't it?"

"Harry, you need to read the whole thing," Bryt said slowly, "They've turned you into a joke. Mention you in articles here or there, making you seem like a nutcase, or faking all this for the attention because you like being famous."

"I didn't ask—I didn't want—_Voldemort killed my parents_!" Harry said, looking disgusted, "I got famous because he murdered my family but couldn't kill me! Who wants to be famous for that? Don't they think I'd rather it never—"

"We _know_, Harry," Ginny cut in.

"There ain't been anytihn' on the dementors," Julio spoke up, "You'd think somethin' like out of control dementors would be big news—"

"I'm more surprised they ain't done anythin' on Harry usin' magic," Sofí spoke up—Bryt was surprised that she managed to stay quiet for as long as she did, "You'd think the Ministry would jump on that, considerin' they're paintin' Harry as some type of delinquent."

"They're probably waiting until after the hearing," Bryt said, "If Harry gets expelled, it'll make for a bigger story. If he doesn't—which is most likely, considering the situation—they'll most likely twist it against Harry anyway."

They heard footsteps on the stairs, and Fred, George, and Sofí Disapparated with loud pops only seconds before Mrs. Weasley came into the room.

"The meeting's over, you can come down and have dinner now, everyone's dying to see you, Harry. And who left all those Dungbombs outside the kitchen door?"

"Crookshanks, he loves playing with them," Ginny answered instantly, and Bryt glanced at her. At least Ginny's excuse was believable, as Hermione's ginger cat did love playing with Dungbombs.

"Oh," Mrs. Weasley said, "I thought it might have been Kreacher, he keeps doing odd things like that."

'_Probably because the poor thing's lost his mind,'_ Bryt thought.

"Now, don't forget to keep your voices down in the hall. Ginny, your hands are filthy, what have you been doing? Go wash them before dinner, please..."

Ginny made a face before following her mother out of the room, and Bryt glanced nervously at Harry.

"Look..." Harry started, but cut himself off when Ron shook his head.

"We knew you'd be angry, Harry," Hermione said, "We don't blame you—"

"And I'm sorry I started yelling," Bryt added, giving an embarrassed grin, "It's just...We really did try to tell you. We tried convincing Dumbledore—"

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, "It's okay, Bryt." Harry glanced around the room for a moment before continuing. "Who's Kreacher?"

"The house elf who lives here," Ron said, "Nutter—ouch!" Ron glared at Bryt as she elbowed him in the side.

"C'mon, Bryt, you admitted yourself he's lost his mind," Ron said.

"It's not his fault," Hermione insisted and Ron rolled his eyes.

"They still haven't given up on _spew_—"

"S-P-E-W!" Bryt corrected, "The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare!"

"And it's not just us," Hermione added, "Dumbledore says we should be kind to Kreacher, too—"

"Yeah, yeah," Ron cut in, getting up, "C'mon, I'm starving."

Bryt rolled her eyes as she, Hermione, Julio, and Harry followed, though she couldn't help but grin. She never thought she'd be so glad to be bickering with Ron over things like house elves again. Things were definitely back to normal between them.

Ron suddenly stopped at the top of the stairs, holding out his arm to stop the others.

"Hold it, they're still in the hall, we might be able to hear something..."

Bryt leaned over the banister slightly, and noticed several of the Order members below. Bryt noticed Snape in the center of a group, and Bryt could see Kingsley, Tonks, and Emily among the members still in the hallway.

Bryt saw an odd shadow and glanced up to see Fred, George, and Sofí leaning over the banister above, trying to feed down an Extendable Ear. They didn't have much luck, though, as most of the members started heading out the door.

"Snape never eats here," Ron said as Fred yanked back up the Extendable Ear, "Thank God. C'mon."

"And don't forget to keep your voice down in the hall," Hermione said.

Bryt headed down the stairs and crept towards the kitchen, her stomach growling slightly. This was the first time in days she had her usual appetite and she was more than ready for dinner.


	6. Answers and Questions

Dinner that evening seemed much louder and happier than usual—Bryt couldn't decide if it was because things were normal with her and Ron again, or because Harry was finally at the Order. It was probably a little of both.

Bryt spent most of the dinner sitting with Ron, talking about Quidditch and if Ron would try out for the Gryffindor team—as the Keeper position was open. Ron seemed a bit unsure of the idea, saying that his broom wasn't exactly the best, and his mood seemed to sour a bit more when Bryt offered to let him borrow her Nimbus Seventeen-Hundred. Bryt decided best to change the subject then, but before she could say anything, Fred, George, and Sofí's loud laughter seemed to get everyone's attention. Bryt looked over to where they were sitting around Mundungus, who was apparently telling them about one of his criminal accomplishments. From what Bryt could tell from the end of Mundungus's story, and Mrs. Weasley's scolding afterward, Mundungus had apparently sold someone's stolen goods back to him. Bryt shook her head in disgust, not seeing what was so funny about something like that.

It was very late when dinner finally came to an end and Bryt gave a loud yawn as Mrs. Weasley suggested that everyone head up to bed.

"Not just yet, Molly," Sirius said, then looked at Harry, "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

Bryt could literally feel the shift in moods. Everyone went from a laid-back, sleepy mood to suddenly being tense, glancing around towards each other.

"I did!" Harry said, "I asked Ron, Bryt, and Hermione, but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so—"

"And they're quite right, you're too young," Mrs. Weasley cut in, looking more tense than anyone else in the room, her hands clenched into fists—Bryt was suddenly reminded of the looks her mother got on her face any time the wizarding world had been brought up over the summer.

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" Sirius replied, "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen—"

"Hang on!" George said.

"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" Fred asked loudly.

"_We've_ been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single thing!"

"'_You're too young, you're not in the Order'_," Fred mimicked his mother's voice, "Harry's not even of age!"

"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's been doing," Sirius said simply, "That's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand—"

"It's not down do you to decide what's good for Harry!" Mrs. Weasley snapped, "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"

"Which bit?" Sirius replied, sounding a lot calmer than Mrs. Weasley did.

"The bit about not telling Harry more than he _needs to know_," Mrs. Weasley shot back, stressing more on the last three words. Bryt glanced at her friends curiously. There was definitely something going on, and it was clear all of them wanted to know what.

"I don't intend to tell him more than he _needs to know_, Molly. But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back, he has more right than most to—"

"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix! He's only fifteen, and—"

"—and he's dealt with as much as most in the Order. And more than some—"

"No one's denying what he's done! But he's still—"

"He's not a child!"

"He's not an adult, either! He's not _James_, Sirius!"

"I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly," Sirius said, a cold edge to his voice. Bryt glanced between Sirius and Molly nervously.

"I'm not sure you are!" Mrs. Weasley said, "Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!"

"What's wrong with that?" Harry spoke up. Mrs. Weasley and Sirius both looked over at him.

"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are _not_ your father," Mrs. Weasley said, then glaring back at Sirius, though she was still talking to Harry, "However much you might look like him! You are still at school, and adults responsible for you should not forget that!"

"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?" Sirius snapped.

"Meaning you've been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay home and—"

"We'll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!"

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley turned to her husband, "Arthur, back me up!"

Everyone looked over to Mr. Weasley, who had taken off his glasses and cleaning the lenses—reminding Bryt of how her younger brother, Drew, played with his glasses when he was nervous. Mr. Weasley was quiet for a couple of minutes before he finally answered his wife.

"Dumbledore knows the position has changed, Molly," he said slowly, "He accepts that Harry will have to be filled in to a certain extent now that he is staying at headquarters—"

"Yes, but there's a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he likes!"

"Personally," Lupin spoke up and Bryt jumped slightly, looking over at him. She had almost forgotten he was there. "I think it's better that Harry gets the facts—not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture—from us, rather than a garbled version from...others."

Bryt suddenly had the feeling that Lupin was referring to Fred and George's Extendable Ears.

"Well, well..." Mrs. Weasley was still looking angry, and seemed to be realizing she wasn't going to win this argument, "I can see I'm going to be overruled. I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as one who's got Harry's best interests at heart—"

"He's not your son," Sirius said.

"He's as good as," Mrs. Weasley replied sharply, "Who else has he got?"

"He's got me!"

"Yes, the things is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban."

Bryt stared at Mrs. Weasley in surprise as Sirius pushed himself to his feet. Mrs. Weasley always seemed like a kind, gentle person—even with her yelling when she got angry—but bringing up Azkaban with Sirius seemed like a very low blow from anyone—especially her.

"Molly, you're not the only person who cares about Harry," Lupin spoke up again, a slight edge to his voice, "Sirius, sit _down_."

Sirius slowly sat back down, though Bryt noticed he was pale. Probably thinking about the nightmare of the twelve years he spent in Azkaban. Bryt glanced away, finding herself unable to watch him.

"I want to know what's been going on," Harry said quickly.

"Very well," Mrs. Weasley said sharply, "The rest of you—I want you out of the kitchen, now."

Bryt and the others quickly pushed themselves to their feet and began protesting all at once. Mrs. Weasley seemed determined, but slowly, through pointing out that Fred, George, and Julio were of age, and the others would be told of what happened anyway, Mrs. Weasley caved in—but not before trying to at least get some control again and refusing to let Ginny stay. Ginny protested louder and louder as she left, and soon her shouts were mixed with those of Mrs. Black's portrait. Lupin hurried out of the room to pull the curtains closed again, and once he returned, Sirius turned towards Harry.

"Okay, what do you want to know?" he asked.

"Where's Voldemort?" Harry asked, and there was a collective shudder at the name, "What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the Muggle news, and there hasn't been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything—"

"That's because there haven't been any suspicious deaths yet," Sirius said, "Not as far as we know, anyway...And we know quite a lot."

"More than he thinks we do anyway," Lupin added and Bryt looked between the two curiously, but didn't dare speak up.

"How come he's stopped killing people?" Harry asked.

"Because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself at the moment," Sirius replied, "It would be dangerous for him. His comeback didn't come off quite the way he wanted it to, you see. He messed it up."

"Or rather, you messed it up for him," Lupin said, smiling.

"How?"

"You weren't supposed to survive," Sirius said, "Nobody apart from his Death Eaters was supposed to know he'd come back. But you survived to bear witness."

"And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore," Lupin continued, "And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once."

"How has that helped?" Harry asked.

"Are you kidding?" Bill replied, "Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was ever scared of!"

"Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix about an hour after Voldemort returned."

"So what's the Order been doing?" Harry asked, looking around.

"Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry on his plans," Sirius answered.

"How d'you know what his plans are?"

"Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea," Lupin replied, "And Dumbledore's shrewd ideas normally turn out to be accurate."

"So what does Dumbledore reckon he's planning?"

"Well, firstly, he wants to build up his army again," Sirius said, "In the old days he had huge numbers at his command; witches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters, a great variety of Dark creatures. You heard him planning to recruit the giants; they'll be just one group he's after. He's certainly not going to try and take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters."

Bryt shuddered slightly as she thought about all the different types of Dark creatures she'd read about when learning all she could on magical creatures. There were definitely plenty for Voldemort to choose from. And any of them would bring a lot of trouble.

"So you're trying to stop him from getting more followers?" Harry asked.

"We're doing our best."

"How?"

"Well, the main thing is to try and convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard," Bill answered, "It's proving tricky, though."

"Why?"

"Because of the Ministry's attitude," Tonks spoke up for the first time, "You saw Cornelius Fudge after You-Know-Who came back, Harry. Well, he hasn't shifted his position at all. He's absolutely refusing to believe it's happened."

"But why?" Harry asked, "Why's he being so stupid? If Dumbledore—"

"Ah, well, you've put your finger on the problem," Mr. Weasley cut in, "_Dumbledore_."

"Fudge is frightened of him, you see," Tonks added.

Bryt blinked, glancing around at her friends, some of them seemed as confused as she was.

"Frightened of Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"Frightened of what he's up to," Mr. Weasley said, "You see, Fudge thinks Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him. He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister of Magic."

"But Dumbledore doesn't want—"

"Of course he doesn't. He's never wanted the Minister's job, even though a lot of people wanting him to take it when Millicent Bagnold retired. Fudge came to power instead, but he's never quite forgotten how much popular support Dumbledore had, even though Dumbledore never applied for the job."

"Deep down, Fudge knows Dumbledore's much cleverer than he is, a much more powerful wizard, and in the early days of his Ministry he was forever asking Dumbledore for help and advice," Lupin said, "But it seems that he's become fond of power now, and much more confident. He loves being Minister of Magic, and he's managed to convince himself that he's the clever one and Dumbledore's simply stirring up trouble for the sake of it."

"How can he think that?" Harry asked, his voice rising slightly, "How can he think Dumbledore would just make it all up—that _I'd_ make it all up?"

"Because accepting that Voldemort's back would mean trouble like the Ministry hasn't had to cope with for nearly fourteen years," Sirius replied, "Fudge just can't bring himself to face it. It's so much more comfortable to convince himself Dumbledore's lying to destabilize him."

"Though I don' agree with what Fudge is doin'," Julio spoke up, "You can't really blame people for wantin' to believe nothin's wrong."

"And there lies the problem," Lupin said with a slight grin, "It's hard to convince people Voldemort's back when they don't want to believe it in the first place. What's more, the Ministry's leaning heavily on the _Daily Prophet_ not to report any of what they're calling Dumbledore's rumormongering, so most of the Wizarding community are completely unaware anything's happened, and that makes them easy targets for the Death Eaters if they're using the Imperius Curse."

Bryt shuddered slightly, easily remembering the year before when she had to go through an Imperius Curse in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. She doubted she'd ever be completely over just how _willing_ she had been to do whatever was told of her.

"But you're telling people, aren't you?" Harry asked, looking around, "You're letting people know he's back?"

"Well," Sirius said, "As everyone thinks I'm a mad mass murderer and the Ministry's put a ten-thousand-Galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?"

"And I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community," Lupin said, "It's an occupational hazard of being a werewolf."

"Tonks and Arthur would lose their jobs at the Ministry if they started shooting their mouths off," Sirius added, "And it's very important for us to have spies inside the Ministry, because you can bet Voldemort will have them."

"We've managed to convince a couple of people, though," Mr. Weasley said, "Tonks for one—she's too young to have been in the Order of the Phoenix last time, and having Aurors on our side is a huge advantage—Kingsley Shacklebolt's been a real asset too. He's in charge of the hunt for Sirius, so he's been feeding the Ministry information that Sirius is in Tibet."

"But if none of you's putting the news out that Voldemort's back—"

"Who said none of us was putting the news out?" Sirius asked, cutting Harry off, "Why d'you think Dumbledore's in such trouble?"

"What d'you mean?"

"They're trying to discredit him," Lupin said, "Didn't you see the _Daily Prophet_ last week? They reported that he'd been voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards because he's getting old and losing his grip, but it's not true, he was voted out by Ministry wizards after he made a speech announcing Voldemort's return. They've demoted him from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot—that's the Wizard High Court—and they're talking about taking away his Order of Merlin, First Class, too."

"But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog cards," Bill said with a grin. Bryt snorted.

"It's no laughing matter," Mr. Weasley said sharply, "If he carries on defying the Ministry like this, he could end up in Azkaban and the last thing we want is Dumbledore locked up. While You-Know-Who knows Dumbledore's out there and wise to what he's up to, he's going to go cautiously for a while. If Dumbledore's out of the way—well, You-Know-Who will have a clear field."

Bryt thought of her family, and what would happen if Voldemort didn't think there was anyone to stop him. She wondered if they would have to go into hiding, or even leave the country, to stay safe. After all, with Bryt and her brothers still underage, they hadn't been able to risk any type of protection for the house—any magic done there would have been taken as Bryt, Mike, or Drew preforming underage magic, and they'd risk being expelled from Hogwarts. If that happened, Bryt would lose her wand and have no chance at all of protecting her family. Bryt closed her eyes, trying to push back the thought. She didn't want to think about that. She'd just have to hope that Dumbledore's presence would keep Voldemort at bay for now.

"But if Voldemort's trying to recruit more Death Eaters, it's bound to get out that he's come back, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"Voldemort doesn't march up to people's houses and bang on their front doors, Harry," Sirius replied, "He tricks, jinxes, and blackmails them. He's well-practiced at operating in secrecy. In any case, gathering followers is only one thing he's interested in, he's got other plans too, plans he can put into operation very quietly indeed, and he's concentrating on them at the moment."

"What's he after apart from followers?"

Sirius and Lupin glanced at each other for barely a second before answering.

"Stuff he can only get by stealth," Sirius said simply, then on everyone's confused looks, "Like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time."

Bryt and her friends glanced around at each other, each of them obviously thinking about what type of weapon Voldemort would be so determined to get. Whatever it was, it must be something very dangerous.

"Like what kind of weapon?" Harry asked, "Something worse than _Avada Kedavra_—"

"That's enough."

Bryt jumped, looking towards the kitchen door and seeing that Mrs. Weasley had come back. Bryt wondered how long she had been standing there, listening to what the Order members had been telling them.

"I want you all in bed now," Mrs. Weasley said, looking around, "All of you."

"You can't boss us—"

"Watch me," Mrs. Weasley snapped, cutting off Fred as she turned to Sirius, "You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might as well induct him into the Order straightaway."

"Why not?" Harry asked, "I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight—"

"No," Lupin cut in, "The Order is comprised of overage wizards. Wizards who have left school," he added, glancing between Fred, George, and Julio, "There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea, any of you...I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough."

Knowing they'd get no more information tonight, Bryt and the others slowly stood up and headed out of the kitchen.

Ginny had been waiting for Bryt and Hermione. The second the two had finished changing clothes, locked the door, and turned out the light, Ginny started asking questions in a hurried whisper. Hermione and Bryt explained everything the best they could. Once they finished, Ginny voiced the question Bryt had been wondering herself.

"What do you think's the weapon Sirius mentioned?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know," Bryt replied, "I just hope Voldemort doesn't get his hands on it."

Before they could theorize any more on the subject, they heard footsteps on the stairs and Bryt lay still in her bed, staring through the darkness, knowing Mrs. Weasley was outside the door, making sure they were really going to sleep. Not wanting to risk being overheard, the three didn't start their conversation again. Though Bryt was sure that Ginny and Hermione, like her, would go to sleep wondering what type of weapon could be dangerous enough for Voldemort to be so determined to get it.


	7. The House of Black

They didn't get much chance to talk about the weapon Sirius mentioned during the next day. They were tasked with cleaning the drawing room, and it seemed the worst they had faced yet. They started with trying to get rid of a doxy infestation in the curtains—which Bryt was first against using any spray called 'Doxycide', but agreed to help after she was assured that the spray only paralyzed the doxies and didn't kill them. This lead to an argument with Ron as he didn't know why Bryt cared so much about doxies, since they were—as he said—a bunch of dangerous pests, like poisonous flies. Bryt replied that she didn't like the idea of killing anything, no matter how much of a 'pest' they might be. Mrs. Weasley finally had to cut into the argument, reminding them that they were supposed to be helping with the cleaning.

Removing the doxies took all morning. It was well after noon when they finally finished and Bryt sat on the floor to rest, but jumped back up a second later when the desk she had leaned against started to shake. Bryt had forgotten about the desk. Even though they were pretty sure that the creature in it was a boggart, they had decided better to wait for Moody to arrive and let them know for certain before opening the drawer. Better to be safe than sorry when it came to this house.

The doorbell rang, which was shortly followed by the muffled sounds of Mrs. Black's screaming. Mrs. Weasley left to see who it was, telling the others to stay put. As soon as she shut the door, they all rushed for the window to try and see who was there.

"Mundungus!" Hermione said at the sight of the squat, ginger-haired man and his talk stack of cauldrons, "What's he brought all those cauldrons for?"

"Probably looking for a safe place to keep them," Harry said, "Isn't that what he was doing the night he was supposed to be tailing me? Picking up dodgy cauldrons?"

"Yeah, you're right!" Fred said as Mundungus and his cauldrons disappeared from view through the front door, "Blimey, Mum won't like that..."

Fred and George hurried over to the door, Sofí right behind. Sofí reached over, slowly opening the door an inch for them to hear better.

"Mundungus is talking to Sirius and Kingsley. Can't hear properly..." Fred muttered, glancing towards George, "D'you reckon we can risk the Extendable Ears?"

"Might be worth it," George replied, "I could sneak upstairs and get a pair—"

The rest of what George was going to say was suddenly drowned out by the shouts of Mrs. Weasley below.

"WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!"

"Man, she's scary when she's mad," Sofí said, then smirking over towards Bryt, "Kinda like you."

Bryt rolled her eyes and heard Ron mutter something next to her. She glanced over at him, where Ron suddenly seemed to find something interesting on the wall nearby. Before Bryt could say anything, however, Mrs. Weasley's shouts were drifting up the stairs again.

"—COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, AS IF WE HAVEN'T GOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT WITHOUT YOU DRAGGING STOLEN CAULDRONS INTO THE HOUSE—"

"Those idiots are letting her get into her stride," George said, "You've got to head her off early, otherwise she builds up a head of steam and goes on for hours. And she's been dying to have a go at Mundungus ever since he sneaked off when he was supposed to be following you, Harry—and there goes Sirius's mum again—"

With Mrs. Black's screams mixed with Mrs. Weasley's, it was impossible to hear what was being said anymore, so Sofí shut the door—but not before Kreacher slipped into the room. Bryt always felt a wave of pity when she saw the old elf. He had obviously lost his mind in his years alone in the decaying house and was now muttering to himself as if he didn't realize anyone else was there.

"Hello, Kreacher," Fred said loudly.

Kreacher stopped his muttering, looking over at Fred as if he just realized he was there.

"Kreacher did not see Young Master," he said with a bow and Bryt bit on her tongue to keep back the comment threatening to come up. Kreacher added in what he had obviously meant to be a whisper, "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."

"Sorry?" George asked, "Didn't catch that last bit."

"Kreacher said nothing," Kreacher said, bowing to George now, "And there's its twin, unnatural little beasts they are."

Sofí began laughing, which gained her a glare from Bryt, Hermione, and Julio.

"...and there's the Mudbloods, standing there bold as brass," Kreacher muttered, looking towards Bryt and Hermione now, "Oh, if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry, and there's a new boy, Kreacher doesn't know his name, what is he doing here, Kreacher doesn't know..."

"He's Harry Potter, Kreacher," Bryt said gently. She knew it was best to stay patient and kind when it came to someone as mentally unstable as Kreacher was.

"The short Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is my friend, if Kreacher's Mistress saw him in such company, oh what would she say—"

"Don't call her a Mudblood!" Ron and Ginny snapped.

Bryt waved them off, feeling more pity towards Kreacher.

"If I don't let gits like Malfoy bother me with that name," she said, giving Kreacher a sympathetic look, "I definitely won't let it bother me when someone completely out of his mind does it. He can't help it."

Kreacher didn't seem to hear, as he was staring at Harry now, muttering to himself in a loud voice again.

"What do you want anyway?" George cut in and Kreacher looked over at him.

"Kreacher is cleaning."

"A likely story."

Bryt looked over to see Sirius had come into the room and Bryt tensed slightly, biting on her tongue as she noticed Sirius was glaring at the house elf. Neither Bryt nor Hermione got along well with Sirius when it came to the subject of how Kreacher was treated.

"Stand up straight," Sirius said when Kreacher had bowed so low he had nearly toppled over, "Now what are you up to?"

"Kreacher is cleaning," Kreacher said again, "Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black—"

"—and it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy," Sirius said.

Bryt fought back another retort that was coming up. She had managed more and more over the past month to keep her temper in check, but it didn't mean she still fought with it each time it came up. She watched as Kreacher and Sirius continued, until Kreacher began muttering something about a tapestry.

"I thought it might be that," Sirius said, glancing towards one wall, "She'll have put another Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of it, I don't doubt, but if I can get rid of it I certainly will. Now go away, Kreacher."

Kreacher headed out, still muttering to himself, and Sirius slammed the door after him. Bryt kept her hands gripped tightly, fighting hard not to lash out at Sirius.

"Sirius, he's not right in the head," Hermione said, "I don't think he realizes we can hear him."

"He's been alone too long," Sirius replied, "Taking mad orders from my mother's portrait and talking to himself, but he was always a foul little—"

"If you just set him free," Hermione cut in, "Maybe—"

"We can't set him free, he knows too much about the Order," Sirius said—one of the few things Bryt reluctantly agreed with Sirius on when it came to Kreacher, "And anyway, the shock would kill him. You suggest to him that he leaves this house, see how he takes it."

Sirius turned from Hermione and headed towards the wall-length tapestry Kreacher had mentioned. Curiosity overpowering her annoyance with Sirius, Bryt followed the others over to him.

Bryt immediately saw the tapestry was an enormous, very detailed family tree dating back centuries. Bryt looked towards the top of the tapestry to read the words written across the center:

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

"Toujours Pur"

"You're not on here!" Harry said, and Bryt looked over at him to see he was looking through the names at the bottom of the tapestry. Bryt followed Harry's gaze and realized what he was talking about. Sirius's name wasn't listed anywhere that she could see.

"I used to be there," Sirius said, pointing to a burned part of the tapestry near the bottom, "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home—Kreacher's quite fond of muttering that story under his breath."

"You ran away from home?" Harry asked as Bryt looked at Sirius curiously.

"When I was about sixteen," Sirius said, "I'd had enough."

"Where did you go?" Harry asked.

"Your dad's place. Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's during the school holidays, and then when I was seventeen I got a place of my own, my Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold—he's been wiped off here, too, that's probably why—anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr. and Mrs. Potter's for Sunday lunch, though."

"But...Why did you..."

"Leave?" Sirius got a bitter smile on his face as he looked at Harry, "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pureblood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal...my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them...that's him."

Sirius pointed to a name next to the hole where he said his name used to be. Bryt saw the name 'Regulus Black', followed by a birth date and a date of death—around fifteen years ago.

Bryt felt a wave of pity towards Sirius as she looked up at him. She had known by how Sirius acted that he didn't like being back at this house, but actually hearing the reasons why and knowing how much Sirius hated his family put everything in a different light. He must feel as trapped here as he did when he was in Azkaban.

"He was younger than me," Sirius continued, "And a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."

"But he died," Harry said.

"Yeah, stupid idiot...He joined the Death Eaters."

"You're kidding!"

Sirius looked at Harry in surprise, and Bryt knew why. Just the vibe from the house, and what little Sirius had told them so far, Bryt knew that Sirius was obviously one of the few decent people from the Black family.

"Come on, Harry," Sirius said, "Haven't you seen enough of this house to tell you what kind of wizards my family were?"

"Were—were your parents Death Eaters too?" Harry asked.

"No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for purification of the Wizarding race, getting rid of Muggleborns and having purebloods in charge. They weren't alone, either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things...They got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get that power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first."

"Was he killed by an Auror?" Harry asked.

"Oh no. No, he was murdered by Voldemort," Sirius said and Bryt's eyes widened in surprise. Sirius must have seen the look, and the others must have seen just as surprised, because Sirius went on quickly, "Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely, I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, that he panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."

"Lunch!"

Bryt turned to see Mrs. Weasley had returned, carrying a large tray of sandwiches. Bryt's stomach started growling, reminding her just how long it had been since their quick breakfast. Bryt hurried over with the others, the thoughts of Sirius's family pushed from her mind.

**xxxxx**

It took three days to finish the cleaning in the drawing room. Sirius was more sure than ever that the tapestry had a Permanent Sticking Charm on it, because nothing they did could get it down. They also left the rattling desk alone, as Moody still hadn't come by for them to ask about it—Bryt was determined to brave asking Moody exactly how he was sure it was a boggart in the drawer. Her curiosity over magical creatures had her wondering just what a boggart looked like when it was hidden away from others.

Their cleaning moved towards the dining room next, though they were constantly having problems with Kreacher trying to sneak away family heirlooms again.

Visitors came throughout each day as well, distracting them as they tried to eavesdrop as much as they dared before Mrs. Weasley brought everyone to the task at hand. Though occasionally, some of the Order members—such as Tonks and Mundungus—stayed to help with cleaning. Bryt thought that Mundungus only stayed to try and loot some of the valuables they were throwing out, however. And she felt she was proven right when Mundungus would ask about certain things and, when he thought no one was looking, would push them into his own pockets.

A week after Harry had arrived at Grimmauld Place, the subject of Harry's hearing came up for the first time since he arrived.

"I've ironed your best clothes for tomorrow morning, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said during their dinner that night, "And I want you to wash your hair tonight too. A good first impression can work wonders."

Bryt looked away from where she had been talking to Ron, staring over at Harry, who now seemed overly interested in his food as he gave a nod.

"How am I getting there?" Harry asked, sounding oddly calm. If Bryt was in his shoes, she'd be terrified out of her mind.

"Arthur's taking you to work with him," Mrs. Weasley replied.

"You can wait in my office until it's time for the hearing," Mr. Weasley said with a smile.

Harry looked up, his gaze going over to Sirius for a moment.

"Professor Dumbledore doesn't think it's a good idea for Sirius to go with you," Mrs. Weasley said, "And I must say I—"

"Think he's _quite right_," Sirius cut in, sounding annoyed.

"When did Dumbledore tell you that?" Harry asked in surprise, staring at Sirius.

"He came last night when you were in bed," Mr. Weasley answered.

The mood for dinner was much quitter after that. Even Sofí seemed to think better of talking, keeping her focus on her food. It wasn't long before Mrs. Weasley decided it was best for everyone to go to bed and began ushering everyone up the stairs.

Bryt, Hermione, and Ginny all changed in silence and got into their beds, and Bryt was sure they were both wondering the same thing she was.

Would Harry still be a fellow Hogwarts student after tomorrow morning? And if he did get expelled, what would they do then?


	8. Good News

Harry was already gone when Bryt and the others came down for breakfast the next morning. Barely any of them ate, and Mrs. Weasley, thankfully, didn't have anyone cleaning. They all stayed in the kitchen, tense and quiet. Bryt was gripping her bracelet tightly in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over the stones as Ron was bouncing his leg anxiously next to her. Ginny was on her other side, gripping her hands together tightly and staring at a wall across the room, lost in thought. Julio and Hermione sat across from them, Hermione's brow wrinkled in concentration as she kept muttering under her breath and Julio constantly whispering reassurances. Sofí was further down the table, sitting between Fred and George with her head resting in one hand, and her other on the table, drumming her fingers on its surface.

Bryt couldn't stop thinking about how Harry's hearing would go. She kept trying to reassure herself that there was no way Harry would be expelled—after all, Harry had been acting in self-defense. But Bryt also knew just how corrupt the wizarding world's law system could be. That, with the fact that the Ministry was doing everything they could to make Harry seem like an attention-seeking delinquent, Bryt couldn't help but wonder if something would happen to try and give any excuse for Harry to be expelled.

_'__What would happen if he does?'_ Bryt thought. She couldn't imagine being at Hogwarts without Harry. Even the trip on the Hogwarts Express wouldn't feel right—Bryt thought back to her second year when Harry and Ron had missed the Hogwarts Express because Dobby had sealed the barrier to platform nine-and-three-quarters. She remembered how quiet and awkward that train trip had been for her and Hermione. She didn't want to go through that again.

Nine o'clock came and Bryt glanced around at everyone before staring back down at the bracelet in her hands. Harry would be starting his hearing now. Bryt couldn't help but wonder how it was going. Would he be okay? Was he able to convince them that he had been acting in self-defense, trying to protect himself and his cousin? Would the Ministry try to do anything to sabotage Harry's chances? If so, would Harry be able to do anything about it?

The thoughts haunted Bryt's mind until nearly noon when the kitchen door opened and everyone looked up, then hurried to their feet when they noticed it was Mr. Weasley and Harry. Everyone began talking at once.

"How'd it go?" Hermione, Julio, Bryt, and Ginny asked quickly.

"Were you cleared?" Fred, George, Sofí, and Ron asked.

"They tried to change the court time," Mr. Weasley said, "And trialed Harry in front of a full court, but Dumbledore got there in time and gave a convincing argument. Harry's been cleared."

Bryt felt a wave of relief in such a rush that she let out a short laugh, starting to grin brightly. Fred and George let out a loud, triumphant yell, then began some type of dance in a circle, chanting 'He got off!' They were soon joined by both Sofí and Ginny. Hermione looked both relieved and as if she might faint, now leaning back against Julio to keep from collapsing completely.

"I knew it!" Ron said loudly, punching a fist into the air, "You always get away with this stuff!"

"They were bound to clear you," Hermione said, "There was no case against you, none at all..."

"Everyone seems quite relieved, though, considering they all knew I'd get off," Harry said, though he was grinning brightly himself. He glanced over to where Fred, George, Sofí, and Ginny were still chanting 'He got off!' and dancing around.

"That's enough, settle down!" Mr. Weasley said, turning towards Sirius, "Listen, Sirius, Lucius Malfoy was at the Ministry—"

"What?" Sirius asked. Bryt looked between Ron and Hermione in surprise. Bryt couldn't help but wonder what Mr. Malfoy was doing at the Ministry, and talking with Fudge of all people.

_'__Probably paying Fudge off for something,_' Bryt thought, _'But for what?'_

"_He got off, he got off, he got off_—"

"Be quiet, you four!" Mr. Weasley said before turning back to Sirius, "Yes, we saw him talking to Fudge on level nine, then they went up to Fudge's office together. Dumbledore ought to know."

"Absolutely," Sirius replied, "We'll tell him, don't worry."

"Well, I'd better get going," Mr. Weasley said, "There's a vomiting toilet in Bethnal Green waiting for me. Molly, I'll be late, I'm covering for Tonks, but Kingsley might be dropping in for dinner—"

"_He got off, he got off, he got off_—"

"That's enough!" Mrs. Weasley said loudly as Mr. Weasley left, "Harry dear, come and sit down, have some lunch, you hardly ate breakfast..."

Bryt hadn't even realized that Mrs. Weasley had started making lunch. She turned and sat down with Ron across from Harry, Hermione, and Julio. Ron immediately started piling mashed potatoes on everyone's plates.

"'Course once Dumbledore turned up on your side, there was no way they were going to convict you," Ron said.

"Yeah, he swung it for me," Harry replied.

"Ron, that's way too much, even for me," Bryt said, grabbing Ron's hand as he was putting another scoop of potatoes on her plate so that there was no room for anything else, "Here, give me that spoon."

Bryt took the spoon from Ron and began scooping out some of her potatoes over to Harry's plate across from her.

"I bet Dumbledore turns up this evening to celebrate with us, you know," Ron said after a second.

"I don't think he'll be able to," Mrs. Weasley said, "He's really very busy at the moment."

"HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF—"

"SHUT UP!"

Fred, George, Sofí, and Ginny all stopped instantly, staring at Mrs. Weasley with identical looks of surprise. Bryt suddenly chocked in a fit of laughter, patting her chest to calm herself down.

**xxxxx**

Harry being cleared of all charges with his hearing seemed to have uplifted the mood at Grimmauld Place. Somehow, the house seemed more welcoming now. Though Harry still seemed worried about something, and finally confided in Bryt, Ron, and Hermione while they were cleaning in a third floor room.

"I'm worried about Sirius," Harry said, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn patch of mold on the cabinet, "Have you noticed how withdrawn he's been since my hearing?"

Bryt had noticed. Sirius had gotten to where he rarely talked to anyone, and was starting to neglect helping with the cleaning, spending most of his time with Buckbeak in the room where he was keeping the hippogriff.

"Don't you go feeling guilty!" Hermione said, "You belong at Hogwarts and Sirius knows it. Personally, I think he's being selfish."

"How's it selfish to want company here?" Bryt asked, motioning around the decayed room.

"He'll have company," Hermione replied simply, "It's the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, isn't it? He just got his hopes up that Harry would be coming to live here with him."

"I don't think that's true," Harry replied, "He wouldn't give me a straight answer when I asked him if I could."

"He just didn't want to get his own hopes up even more," Hermione said, "And he probably felt a bit guilty himself, because I think part of him was really hoping you'd get expelled. Then you'd both be outcasts together."

"Come off it!" Ron and Harry said loudly.

"Suit yourselves. But I sometimes think Ron's mum's right, and Sirius gets confused about whether you're you or your father, Harry."

"So you think he's touched in the head?" Harry snapped.

"No, I just think he's been very lonely for a long time."

Bryt had been keeping her focus on her scrubbing, hoping that the subject would get away from Sirius soon. The way Harry was worrying, and how he still seemed to get angry over the smallest things lately, had Bryt more and more convinced that telling Harry—at least anytime soon—about not trying to catch Wormtail would not be a good idea. Thankfully, Ron seemed to agree with Bryt, as he hadn't brought up anything on it, not even when he and Bryt were alone.

Luckily, Mrs. Weasley came into the room at that moment, ending their conversation.

"Still not finished?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking over the cabinet the four had been scrubbing down.

"I thought you might be here to tell us to take a break!" Ron said, "D'you know how much mold we've got rid of since we arrived here?"

"You were so keen to help the Order," Mrs. Weasley replied sharply, "You can do your bit my making headquarters fit to live in."

"I feel like a house elf."

Bryt glared Ron and, once she was sure Mrs. Weasley had left the room, hit him upside the head.

"Well, now that you understand what dreadful lives they lead, perhaps you'll be a bit more active in SPEW!" Hermione said and Bryt was suddenly hit with an idea.

"Maybe we should do sponsor cleaning at Hogwarts," Bryt said, turning to Hermione, "Get people to understand just how bad house elves have it."

"I was just thinking the same thing," Hermione said, "All the proceeds could go to SPEW, it would raise awareness as well as funds..."

Bryt and Hermione were soon in a discussion of what they could to at Hogwarts, which continued over the next few days. Hermione even decided to start knitting clothes for the house elves to try and free them. Bryt tried to help, but she learned very quickly that knitting was definitely not for her. She still tried to help, but after Bryt hopelessly tangled her fourth ball of yarn, Hermione seemed to think it was better that Bryt not make any of the clothes.

The talk of house elves and Hogwarts only reminded Bryt of how eager she was to get back to school. She was looking forward to seeing Hagrid again and was also curious about who their next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was.

Dumbledore apparently had trouble finding a new teacher, as it was the very last day of the holidays when their letters finally came. Bryt had been in the kitchen with Ron when the owl came in with their letters. Ron took his and Harry's up to their room while Bryt took hers and Hermione's. When Bryt went into the room she had been sharing with Hermione and Ginny, she found Hermione and Julio sitting together on one bed, talking with each other over some book they were sharing.

"School lists, 'mione," Bryt said, holding up her friend's letter.

"Oh, it's about time," Hermione said anxiously, getting up and hurrying over, "Prefects are chosen this year, I'm so worried about if I'm chosen."

"I'm sure y'will be, Hermione," Julio said with a smile, "It's a given."

"I told you the same about you becoming Secretary for the Tumbleweed dorm," Hermione said, staring anxiously at her letter, having not opened it yet, "But you still worried about it until you got that badge."

"Y'were right, and so am I," Julio said, coming over, "C'mern, open it already."

Bryt just shook her head as she opened her own letter, looking at the school list. She only needed two new books this year—_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5_ and _Defensive Magical Theory_.

Hermione suddenly let out an odd sort of squeal and Bryt looked up to see the girl was actually hopping on the spot, holding up a red and gold badge. Bryt clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing, and she noticed even Julio seemed to be fighting to suppress a chuckle.

"Bryt, do you mind if I borrow Joey?" Hermione turned to Bryt, an excited look on her face, "I need to tell my parents—Prefect is something they can understand. They'll be so pleased!"

"Yeah, g-go ah-head," Bryt managed through the fight of holding back her laughter.

Hermione gave a rushed thank you as she hurried to the desk, picking up a parchment and quill before writing so quickly Bryt would be surprised if anything on that page would be readable. Hermione then called Joey down from the top of the wardrobe, sending the letter off.

"We should go tell the guys," Hermione spun back to Bryt and Julio, "Oh, I bet Harry's been made prefect, too!"

"I bet he has," Bryt agreed, following Hermione and Julio out of the room.

"Did I ever act that bad 'bout my badges?" Julio asked Bryt in a whisper, nodding towards Hermione, who had already gotten far ahead of them and was now down the stairs.

"No, thankfully," Bryt said with a small giggle, "But this is a lot better than how'd things would be if she _wasn't_ prefect."

Julio gave a small nod of agreement, obviously thinking about how he would have been the year before if he hadn't been elected Vice Secretary at Salem, or if he hadn't been elected Secretary this year. They soon went into Harry and Ron's room where Fred and George were there already. Hermione looked shocked and was staring at Ron. Bryt looked over and noticed that Ron was the one holding the prefect badge. Bryt blinked in surprise. Ron was made prefect? She was so sure it'd be Harry.

Bryt tried to regain herself, however, and started grinning as she went over and hugged Ron.

"Congratulations, Ron!" she said, "I knew it!"

"You're the only one," Fred and George said together.

Hermione and Julio glanced at each other and Bryt gave them a warning look when she was sure Ron wouldn't notice. Even though Bryt had expected Harry to be the prefect, she knew better than to say so in front of Ron. The boy had enough self-esteem issues as it was.

The door opened again and Bryt looked up to see Mrs. Weasley had come in with a basket of clean clothes.

"Ginny said the book lists had come at last," Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sort out the clothes she brought in, "If you give them to me I'll take them over to Diagon Alley this afternoon and get your books while you're packing. Ron, I'll have to get you more pajamas, these are at least six inches too short, I can't believe how fast you're growing...What color would you like?"

"Get him red and gold to match his badge," George said with a smirk.

"Match his what?" Mrs. Weasley asked, only seeming to be half-listening.

"His _badge_," Fred said, almost as if he were dreading saying it, "His lovely shiny new _prefect's badge_."

Mrs. Weasley froze in the middle of folding, her gaze turning towards her youngest son.

"His...but...Ron, you're not..."

Ron answered by holding up his badge. Bryt noticed for the first time that Ron seemed more shocked than anyone about being made prefect.

"I don't believe it!" Mrs. Weasley said with a delighted yell, "I don't believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That's everyone in the family!"

"What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?" George asked, rolling his eyes as Mrs. Weasley hugged Ron.

"Wait until your father hears! Ron, I'm so proud of you, what wonderful news, you could end up Head Boy, just like Bill and Percy, it's the first step! Oh, what a thing to happen in the middle of all this worry, I'm just thrilled, oh _Ronnie_—"

Fred and George were mocking throwing up behind Mrs. Weasley and Bryt was fighting not to laugh again. She couldn't help but think that it was a very good thing Sofí wasn't in the room at the moment—that would only make things a lot worse.

Of course, that just made Bryt realize that probably for the first time that summer, Sofí was not hanging around Fred and George. Bryt glanced over at Julio, wondering what the younger García sibling could be up to.

"Where's your sister?" Bryt asked in a whisper.

"Probably still in our room," Julio replied, "She woke me up 'bout four this mornin', packin' away her stuff. Said she wanted an early start." Julio rolled his eyes at that and Bryt grinned. Sofí was very much a morning person and others often paid for it. But the fact that Sofí hadn't come out of her room yet was still a bit odd.

"I'm gonna to let her know about our new prefects," Bryt said, handing her letter over to Hermione, "Give Mrs. Weasley my letter for me."

With another glance towards where Mrs. Weasley and Ron were talking, Bryt slipped out of the room and started up the stairs, grinning to herself. Now that she thought about it, it was a good thing Ron had become prefect. It was finally something good for him, something he had that was better than Bryt and Harry. Bryt couldn't be more happy for him.


	9. Odd Behavior

Bryt reached Sofí and Julio's room, knocking on the door before opening it a bit.

"Sofí? You in here?" she asked, then jumped slightly as she heard a book slam. She looked over and saw Sofí at a desk, her hand over a red-bound book, and staring back at Bryt with an odd expression.

"You okay?" Bryt asked, glancing to the book on the desk. Sofí picked it up quickly and shoved it into her suitcase—Bryt noticed Sofí seemed to take extra care to make sure the book was buried under her clothes—closing the suitcase quickly.

"Fine," Sofí said, giving an odd grin, "Just finishin' up my packin'. Whatchya need?"

Bryt was still staring at the suitcase. Bryt was respectful enough of Sofí's privacy not to investigate the book, but she was still curious as to why Sofí seemed to think she needed to hide it.

"Bryt? Whatchya need?"

"Huh?" Bryt looked back at Sofí, who was now standing between Bryt and the suitcase, "Oh. Yeah, we got out Hogwarts letters. Hermione and Ron are prefects."

"Ain't prefects like the vice secretary stuff at Salem?" Sofí asked, cocking her head, "But y'don' vote fer yers?"

"Yeah," Bryt said with a nod, "Anyway, we were just wondering why you've been hidden away all day." Again, Bryt glanced towards the suitcase, but quickly looked back at Sofí, who looked oddly distracted.

"Jus' gettin' packin' done," Sofí said, starting to grin, "C'mern, I'll help yah with yers."

Sofí took Bryt by the arm and hurried the two of them out of her room and Bryt shook her head. At least Sofí was acting normally now. She was probably acting odd a moment ago just to mess with Bryt a bit. It was something Sofí would do—and had done a few times before.

"Bryt, there you are!" Ron said with a grin, appearing at the top of the stairs just as the two girls were about to go into Bryt's room.

"Need 'alone' time?" Sofí asked with a smirk, air-quoting the word 'alone'. Bryt glared at her before looking back at Ron, who was blushing now.

"Er...I just..." Ron started and Bryt sighed, looking at Sofí.

"I know I'm going to regret this, but go away," she said.

Sofí's grin grew, but she turned around and headed off in the other direction. Bryt looked back at Ron.

"I worry about that girl all the time," she said, "So, what'd you need?"

"Oh," Ron said, looking to make sure Sofí had really left before turning back to Bryt, starting to grin, "Mum said she'd try to get me a Cleansweep while getting our school supplies. A reward for becoming prefect."

"Ron, that's great!" Bryt said, grinning herself, "Really great!"

"Yeah, it is," Ron said, looking over his shoulder, as if to make sure no one was coming before he turned back to Bryt, "Can I talk to you about something?"

"Yeah, sure," Bryt said, stepping into her room, with Ron following. Hermione and Ginny weren't in there to start packing yet—Hermione was most likely talking with Julio some more. Bryt wasn't sure what Ginny was doing at the moment. Bryt sat down on her bed and Ron sat next to her.

"Well, I was thinking...since I'll have a good broom now..." Ron started, looking unsure, "Y'know, you suggested it, so I think I might do it. Try out for the Keeper position this year."

Bryt grinned, remembering that night earlier that summer when she had asked Ron if he would try out for Keeper, but he had complained about the quality of his current broom. Bryt hadn't played Quidditch with Ron—or at all, truthfully—but she had watched him playing with others the summer before at the Burrow. She thought Ron had it in him to be a great Keeper.

"That's a great idea," Bryt said, "You'll be amazing, I'm sure."

"Yeah, well," Ron said slowly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, "I usually played Keeper when my brothers practiced over the summer...I'm pretty good, but...I'd still like to practice some after classes once we're at Hogwarts."

"Need some help?" Bryt offered, "It'd be kinda hard to practice catching Quaffles on your own."

And it'd help Bryt get used to flying a broom more. She seldom had time to fly during the summer holidays, with living in a Muggle neighborhood. In fact, Bryt only had chances to fly the summer before when visiting Sofí and Julio—and occasional moments at Hogwarts. Bryt wanted to get better at flying considering she planned to try out for the Beater position the following year once Fred and George had left Hogwarts.

"I'd really appreciate that, yeah," Ron said, grinning awkwardly.

"That's what I'm here for," Bryt said, leaning up and kissing Ron.

"Oops."

Bryt jumped back and turned to see Ginny in the doorway, looking embarrassed. Ron turned bright red, muttered something about packing, and hurried from the room. Bryt felt heat rising to her own face as well.

"Let's...um..." Bryt started, "Let's pretend you didn't walk in just then, okay?"

"Fine by me," Ginny said quickly, hurrying over to open her trunk and start packing.

"A bit ironic, though," Bryt said after a moment as she packed away her robes, "Considering last year."

Ginny gave an awkward giggle, obviously remembering the day that Bryt had been trying to find a place for her, Ron, and Hermione to help Harry with the third task, and she walked in on Ginny snogging with Michael Corner, who she had begun dating shortly after the Yule Ball.

"Yeah, it is," Ginny said, and the two fell into an awkward silence again that lasted for several minutes. Slowly, the awkwardness of the situation melted away between them, however, and they began talking about their eagerness to get back to Hogwarts as Hermione came in, ready to pack her own things.

It was late when Mrs. Weasley finally returned with books and Ron's broom, which Ron took eagerly. Once Bryt closed her trunk with her schoolbooks inside, she headed downstairs with her friends. When they entered the basement, Bryt noticed a large banner hanging across one wall:

CONGRATULATIONS RON AND HERMIONE—NEW PREFECTS

"I thought we'd have a little party, not a sit-down dinner," Mrs. Weasley said, looking extremely proud, "Your father and Bill are on their way, Ron, I've sent them both owls and they're _thrilled_."

Bryt sat down between Ron and Harry, with Hermione and Julio sitting across from them. Bryt looked around and noticed Lupin, Tonks, and Kingsley were there visiting. Bryt was surprised when Sofí sat down next to her brother instead of joining Fred and George as she usually did. Sofí seemed to notice Bryt's look, because she grinned.

"I spent all summer 'round 'em," she said, nodding to the twins, "Told 'em I'm spendin' tonight over here. It's the last night I'll see y'all 'til next year, after all."

Bryt nodded, grabbing a butterbeer as the door opened. She looked up to see Moody had arrived.

"Oh, Alastor, I'm glad you're here," Mrs. Weasley said, coming over to him, "We've been wanting to ask you for ages—could you have a look in the writing desk in the drawing room and tell us what's inside it? We haven't wanted to open it just in case it's something really nasty."

Bryt turned, paying close attention now. She was still curious about what a boggart looked like when it was in hiding—if it was even a boggart in that desk. She would just have to get up enough nerve to ask Moody. After all, he didn't exactly give off the best impression of a friendly guy.

"Drawing room..." Moody said, his magical eye disappearing into its socket as it focused straight up, "Desk in the corner? Yeah, I see it...Yeah, it's a boggart..."

"What's a boggart look like?" Bryt blurted out quickly before she could lose her nerve.

Both of Moody's eyes focused on Bryt and she tensed slightly, trying hard to keep eye contact. She was surprised when, a moment later, Moody gave a bit of a crooked smile.

"Don't look like much," he said, "Just a black mist—no real shape to them." Moody turned back to Mrs. Weasley, "Want me to go up and get rid of it, Molly?"

Bryt relaxed, starting to grin a bit as she turned back to the others. So a boggart was a shapeless mist? Now that she thought about it, it made sense. Being natural shape shifters, Bryt had always doubted boggarts had any stable body—it would allow them to change their form to just about anything very easily.

"You're a bit mental, you know that?"

Bryt looked up at Ron, who was giving her a weird look.

"Actually, I would've asked the same thing," Julio said.

"Who in their right mind cares what a boggart looks like when it's not scaring people?" Ron replied.

"Prefect, eh?" Moody asked and the others jumped looked back to see Moody's normal eye was on Ron now, "Well, congratulations. Authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn't have appointed you."

Ron paled slightly at that and Bryt patted him on the arm as Moody walked away.

"He's just being paranoid, you'll be fine," she said reassuringly as Bill and Mr. Weasley arrived, and Bryt noticed Mundungus was with them. Bryt was a bit surprised that Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to mind, then she passed it off as Mrs. Weasley was still overjoyed about Ron being a prefect.

"Well, I think a toast is in order!" Mr. Weasley said once everyone sat down and had something to drink, "To Ron and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects!"

Everyone drank to them, and as the others clapped, Bryt leaned up and gave Ron a kiss on the cheek—which gained whistles from Fred and George down the table. Bryt chose to ignore them, though she was a bit surprised Sofí only gave them an odd smirk from across the table.

Though Bryt was soon distracted by Ron as he began talking about his new Cleansweep Eleven. Bryt listened patiently, knowing Ron was eager about his new broom, while Julio and Hermione were talking about the OWL exams from across the table. Bryt found herself listening more to them than Ron, though Ron didn't seem to notice as long as Bryt nodded every now and then.

"These are very important exams," Hermione was saying, "What we pass and fail will shape the classes we'll be able to continue, and that'll shape what careers we'll be able to take."

"Yeh'll be fine," Julio said, grinning at Hermione, "Have y'decided what y'plan t'do after Hogwarts?"

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione said with a sigh, "I just don't know yet...How did you know you wanted to be a healer?"

"I've always had a bit of a knack fer healin' spells, and with potions, and I like the idea of helpin' people heal."

"Will you be applying to Drescher Clinic?"

"Come off it, we all know he'll move back out here," Sofí suddenly snapped, stabbing at her chicken.

Bryt dropped her fork in shock and even Ron stopped in mid-sentence, blinking at Sofí. Hermione looked confused and Julio's eyes widened as he stared at his sister in shock. Bryt had only rarely seen Sofí be serious, and have _never_ seen Sofí angry in any way. Not even in occasions where she _should_ have been angry. Bryt's mind was a blank—she couldn't believe what had just happened.

"Sofí?" Julio asked cautiously, "Are you...You okay?"

Sofí looked at her brother, an odd expression on her face, then sighed.

"Fine," she said, an odd edge to her voice, "Jus' tired. I'm goin' ter bed early."

Sofí pushed herself to her feet and left the kitchen. Bryt watched her leave and heard the distinctive sound of Sofí's heavy platform boots as the girl headed up the stairs. Bryt was still confused and feeling a bit numb. She slowly looked back at Julio, who was staring after his sister with his mouth hanging open.

"What was that about?" Bryt asked after a moment.

"I have no idea..." Julio said, "If I didn' know better 'bout goin' t'go talk t'her...She's really picky 'bout privacy."

"Think it has anything to do with her boyfriend Dante?" Hermione asked, "I know she talks about him a lot, but she's been very quiet today. Has she gotten a letter from him recently?"

"No, the last one was a week ago," Julio said, shaking his head, "Sofí's letter won' get back t'him 'til after we're back in the States. It wouldn' be anythin' with him."

Bryt bit her lip in thought, and after a moment, she suddenly remembered how odd Sofí had acted that morning when Bryt had first came into the room, and how Sofí seemed to be trying to hide the red book. It was Sofí's business, Bryt shouldn't intrude...But if it had anything to do with how Sofí was acting now...Bryt looked up at Julio and decided to see if he knew anything about it. When Bryt asked, Julio blinked at her.

"Her dream diary?" he asked, "She had t'keep one fer a Divination assignment last year, and decided t'keep up with one since. Why?"

"Because when I went to check on her this morning, she seemed a bit jumpy, and kept acting like she was trying to hide it."

"She's always defensive 'bout that book," Julio said, "She don' even let Astrid see the thing, and Astrid believes in that divination nonsense as much as Sofí does."

"Think whatever's with that book is what's bothering her?" Bryt asked, "I mean, it's not like Sofí to be like this..."

Julio shrugged.

"She probably had a bad dream she thinks is some new vision," he said, glancing towards the door Sofí left through a few minutes earlier, looking worried, "She'll be okay once she realizes it ain't gonna come true. Maybe after a good night's sleep, or once we get back t'Salem and she's with Astrid an' Dante again."

Bryt nodded, returning to her food, silently hoping Julio was right. Sofí wasn't the type to be moody, or ever get angry. Bryt found it a bit ironic that Sofí often got on her nerves, but all she wanted now was for the girl to be back to her usual annoying self.


	10. Heading Off

The next morning was a blur of chaos when Bryt first woke up. Sofí had Apparated into the middle of Bryt, Ginny, and Hermione's room, yanking their covers off of them in turn and calling for them to wake up and that they were already running late. Bryt groaned, pulling her pillow over her head, only to have Sofí yank it away. Bryt finally glared up at her friend and said she was awake. Sofí grinned brightly, flipped one of her twin braids back over her shoulder, and Disapparated.

"At least she's in a better mood today," Hermione noted as they got dressed as quickly as possible. Bryt agreed readily. It seemed Sofí was over whatever it was that had been bothering her the night before.

Joey flew in the window while Bryt was in the middle of combing down her short hair, having returned from delivering Hermione's letter to her parents. Bryt quickly got Joey in his cage, after giving Hermione her letter, and then began doing a quick check to make sure she had everything packed.

Once Bryt was sure she hadn't forgotten anything, Bryt locked her trunk and swung her orange mini-backpack over her shoulder before grabbing the trunk in one hand and Joey's cage in the other, following Ginny out of the room.

"OI! WATCH OUT!"

Bryt looked up then jumped back as two trunks came flying towards the stairs. Ginny hadn't been as lucky as she was hit square in the back and launched down the stairs. Bryt let out a yell, taking off down two flights of stairs after her. As Ginny and the trunks hit the ground floor, the curtains over Mrs. Black's portrait flew open and the woman began screaming again.

"Ginny, you okay?" Bryt yelled over the screams, helping the girl sit up. She winced, but nodded, which caused her to wince again. Julio came running down the stairs and squatted down in front of Ginny, already pulling out his wand. In a matter of seconds, Ginny was on her feet, good as new.

"Thanks," Ginny said loudly.

Fred and George came down the stairs just then, trailed by Sofí with her suitcase. Apparently, the twins had bewitched their trunks to fly down the stairs and that's what had thrown Ginny down. Mrs. Weasley hadn't been too happy with that, and was soon yelling at them.

To add to it, Moody was there, grumbling loudly about how someone named Sturgis Podmore hadn't shown up, which left them one guard short and they couldn't leave until he was there.

Bryt, wanting to get away from the noise, ran back up the stairs to check on if Harry and Ron were awake yet and passed Hermione in the hallway as the bushy-haired girl was dragging her trunk down and carrying Crookshanks.

Bryt pushed open the door to Harry and Ron's room to see both of them dressed and Harry grabbing his glasses from the nightstand.

"Got everything ready?" Bryt asked.

"Nearly. Ginny all right?"

"Yeah, Julio got to her right after she fell and patched her up," Bryt said, grinning, "He really is good at healing. Hurry up, we need to going."

"WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!"

Bryt looked over her shoulder, then hurried over to help Ron with his truck. They hurried back down the stairs, Bryt's bag bouncing against her back as she ran. They got to the entrance where Mrs. Black was still screaming, but everyone was so busy that no one was bothering to close the curtain around her portrait.

Mrs. Weasley was yelling instructions over Mrs. Black's screams, and started to scold Sirius when he came into the entrance in his dog form, but finally gave in and said he could come. It wasn't long before they were outside, where Mrs. Black's screams stopped the second the door was shut.

They met Tonks at the end of the street—though Bryt hadn't realized it was her until she greeted Harry. Tonks had used her metamorphmagi abilities to the best today and was disguised as an old lady with curly gray hair.

Sirius seemed overjoyed to be outside and kept chasing his own tail, or chasing birds as he ran up and down the street. Bryt grinned as she watched him. He deserved at least a few moments of freedom whenever he could get them—even if those moments were still disguised as a dog.

Nearly half an hour later, they were on platform nine-and-three-quarters and giving very rushed goodbyes as they were herded onto the train. Bryt hugged Sofí and Julio with promises of seeing them the following summer—though she doubted she'd be able to visit them in the states. Julio made a comment that it wouldn't be necessary, which Sofí began smirking over as Julio moved over to say goodbye to Hermione.

"I suspect he's gonna move out here after finishin' at Salem," Sofí told Bryt in an amused whisper as she nodded towards Julio and Hermione, "One guess why."

Soon, the whistle was blowing and the train was starting off and Bryt leaned out the window with others to wave. She could see the black dog that was Sirius running along the platform after the train, getting laughs from people nearby. Soon even he was out of sight as the train made its way around a turn.

"He shouldn't have come with us," Hermione said anxiously.

"He deserves a bit of fresh air," Bryt said, "Besides, nothing's suspicious about a dog being here."

"Shall we go find a compartment, then?" Harry asked, turning to the others. Bryt noticed Hermione and Ron exchange an awkward look.

"We—well—Ron and I are supposed to go into the prefect carriage," Hermione said slowly.

Bryt knew this, but it would still feel awkward riding on the Hogwarts Express without Hermione and Ron.

"Oh," Harry said slowly, "Right. Fine."

"I don't think we'll have to stay there all journey," Hermione said, "Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time."

"We'll save you seats," Bryt said, "Head on."

Ron glanced at Harry for a second.

"I'd rather—but we have to—I mean, I'm not enjoying it," he said, "I'm not Percy."

"I know you're not," Harry replied with a grin.

Bryt gave Ron a quick kiss on the cheek as he and Hermione started off down the train. Bryt could just hope that their prefect duties wouldn't take too long.

Bryt started down the train with Harry and Ginny, trying to find an empty compartment so they could save seats for Ron and Hermione. People were often staring as they passed, though Bryt knew they were watching Harry. Bryt wondered how many of them believed the lies in the _Daily Prophet_.

They stopped about halfway along the train so Bryt could check in on her brothers. Mike was sitting next to his friend, Natalie McDonald—a cute, freckle-faced girl with strawberry-blonde hair—while Drew was sitting between his two friends, Kevin Whitby—a black boy with dreadlocks—and Owen Cauldwell—a small boy with dark brown hair. Drew's black-and-white cat, Merlin, was curled up in Drew's lap.

"Don't worry, Harry, we all believe you, and so do my parents," Natalie said with a grin—she seemed the only one of Mike and Drew's friends brave enough to speak up in front of them, though Owen and Kevin gave agreeing nods, giving Bryt a wary look. Bryt grinned back at them, remembering how she had accidentally scared the two boys the year before. Apparently, they still hadn't quite gotten over it.

After that stop, Bryt, Harry, and Ginny didn't talk with anyone else until they reached the back of the train where they met Neville—one of the Gryffindors in Bryt's year, and one of Bryt's good friends, though she wasn't as close with him as Harry, Ron, or Hermione. Neville had the handle of his trunk in one hand and his toad, Trevor, in the other.

"Hi," Neville said, panting slightly from the effort of dragging his trunk through the train, "Everywhere's full...I can't find a seat..."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked as she looked into the compartment next to them, "There's room in this one, there's only Loony Lovegood in here—"

Bryt knew the name. Terry had often talked about Loony Lovegood, who was a Ravenclaw a year below them, and known for odd behaviors and believing in creatures that couldn't possibly exist. Bryt looked in to see a girl with waist-length dirty-blonde hair sitting alone, an upside-down magazine called _The Quibbler_ hiding her face.

"Hi, Luna," Ginny said, "Is it okay if we take these seats?"

Luna lowered her magazine, looking over the group in the doorway. There was something about the shape of her face, her large gray eyes, and the almost daydreaming-like look on her face that seemed familiar to Bryt, but she couldn't place from where. Bryt became more sure that she'd seen the girl before when she noticed Luna had her wand behind her ear and was wearing a necklace of butterbeer caps. It was starting to annoy Bryt that she couldn't figure out where she'd seen the girl before.

Luna finally nodded and Bryt, Harry, Ginny, and Neville pulled their trunks into the compartment. Bryt and Harry put their owls' cages up before they finally all took seats, Luna watching them all closely over the top—or rather, bottom—of her magazine.

"Had a good summer, Luna?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," Luna replied, the far-off, dreamy tone of her voice gave Bryt another pang of familiarity, "Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. _You're_ Harry Potter." Luna stared back at Harry again.

"I know I am," Harry replied simply. Neville chuckled a bit and Luna looked over at him.

"And I don't know who you are."

"I'm nobody."

"No you're not," Bryt and Ginny said together.

"This is Neville Longbottom," Ginny continued, "And Bryt Watkins—"

"We've met before," Luna said, looking at Bryt now, "You're doing much better than the last time I saw you. I'm glad you recovered from the Blibbering Humdinger bite."

And then it suddenly dawned on Bryt where she had met this girl before. It had been the year before, only briefly. Bryt, Hermione, Julio, and Mr. García had shared a portkey with Luna and her father to head to the Quidditch World Cup. Bryt hadn't thought much about that encounter because right after the portkey trip, Bryt had started throwing up.

"Er, thanks," Bryt said awkwardly, glancing to Ginny, who was smirking.

"Anyway, everyone, this is Luna Lovegood," Ginny said, completing the introductions, "She's in my year, but in Ravenclaw."

"_Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure_," Luna sung before retreating behind her upside-down magazine again.

Bryt blinked, looking at Ginny again, who was fighting hard not to laugh now. Bryt turned her attention to the window where the sky outside began to grow gray, and Bryt made a face. She was hoping that it wouldn't start raining before they reached Hogwarts. She didn't like the idea of running through the rain. At least if it rained this time, she wouldn't be dealing with a sprained ankle as she did last year.

"Guess what I got for my birthday!" Neville said excitedly and Bryt looked back over at him, glad for a break in the silence.

"Another Remembrall?" Harry asked, referring to a small sphere with smoke in it that turned red when the holder had forgotten something.

"No, I could do with one, though," Neville said, "I lost the old one ages ago...No, look at this..."

Neville opened his bag with one hand, as his other was still holding Trevor, and soon pulled out what looked like a small, potted gray cactus, though instead of needles, it had little boils on it.

"_Mimbulus mimbletonia_," Neville said with a distinct note of pride. Bryt recognized the name as a potions ingredient—or more-so, the Stinksap it gave off—but didn't know much about the plant itself. She had a good feeling Neville did, though. If there was one thing Neville was good at, it was Herbology.

"It's really, really rare," Neville said, "I don't know if there's one in the greenhouse at Hogwarts, even. I can't wait to show Professor Sprout. My great-uncle Algie got it for me in Assyria. I'm going to see if I can breed from it."

"Good for you, Neville," Bryt said, grinning. Neville was normally timid and didn't do well with most classes, so it was always nice to see him so proud of his talent with plants.

"Does it—er—do anything?" Harry asked.

"Loads of stuff! It's got an amazing defense mechanism—hold Trevor for me..."

Harry took the toad and Neville dug through his bag again, pulling out a quill. Bryt leaned forward, curious, and she noticed even Luna was lowering her magazine to watch. Neville held up the gray cactus and lifted up the quill, poking it into the plant.

Bryt jerked back quickly, raising her arms over her face as the plant spewed rancid-smelling green liquid from every boil, splattering everyone in the compartment. Bryt gagged against the smell as she lowered her arms and looked around. Luna and Ginny had both covered their faces—Ginny with her arms like Bryt had, and Luna with her magazine—though Harry and Neville were both covered completely with the rancid green slime.

"S-sorry," Neville gagged, spitting out a mouthful of the slime—Bryt gagged again, very happy she had managed to cover her face, "I haven't tried that before...Didn't realize it would be quite so...Don't worry, though, Stinksap's not poisonous."

_'__Gotta wonder if this is the stuff they use in dungbombs,'_ Bryt thought, putting the clean-side of her sleeve over her nose, though it didn't help much considering the other half of her arm was covered in the slime.

The door opened and Bryt looked up to see Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw a year above her with long black hair, standing in the doorway. Bryt glanced over at Harry in sudden pity. Harry had had a crush on Cho for the past two years, and this couldn't have been the best way to greet her on the way to Hogwarts.

"Oh...hello, Harry," Cho said nervously, glancing around at the slime covering everyone, "Um...bad time?"

"Oh...hi," Harry said, staring at Cho as if he wished she were anywhere else. Bryt couldn't blame him.

"Um..." Cho glanced around the compartment again, "Well...Just thought I'd say hello...Bye then."

Cho slid the door shut and left. Bryt heard Harry groan next to her and glanced over at him, noticing he looked extremely embarrassed.

"Look, we can get rid of all this easily," Ginny said, pulling out her wand, "_Scourgify_!"

Bryt gave a sigh of relief as the Stinksap disappeared, along with its smell. She sunk back in her chair, talking with the others until the food trolley came and they all bought several Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin Pasties, making sure to get extra for Ron and Hermione, who didn't show up until nearly an hour later.

"I'm starving," Ron said, flopping down next to Bryt and taking the Chocolate Frog she offered him. He stuffed nearly the entire frog in his mouth with one bite and leaned back, grinning.

"Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each House," Hermione said as she sat down, "Boy and girl from each."

"Let me guess," Bryt said sourly, "Malfoy's the Slytherin prefect."

"'Course," Ron replied around a mouthful of chocolate.

"And that complete _cow_ Pansy Parkinson," Hermione added, "How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll..."

Bryt smirked. It was always amusing to hear Hermione bashing on anyone, probably because she so rarely did it.

"Who's Hufflepuff?" Harry asked.

"Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot," Ron answered.

"Good for Hannah," Bryt said, grinning. She had always liked the girl.

"And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw," Hermione added.

"Anthony's a pretty good guy," Bryt said with a nod. She didn't know him as well as most of her friends, but Anthony was friends with Terry Boot, the boy Bryt dated for half a year, so she got to know both Anthony and Terry's other friend, Michael Corner.

"We're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often," Ron said, checking his watch, "And we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something..."

"You're not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!" Hermione snapped.

"Yeah, right, because Malfoy won't abuse his at all," Ron replied, rolling his eyes.

"So you're going to descend to his level?"

"No, I'm just going to make sure I get his mates before he gets mine."

"For heaven's sake, Ron—"

"I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing," Ron cut in, grinning as he started to mimic writing, getting a pained look on his face, and continuing in a very Goyle-like grunt, "_I...must...not...look...like...a...baboon's...backside..._"

Everyone started laughing, including Hermione, in spite of her complaining. Though their laughter died down as they realized Luna was shrieking in her own laugher, dropping her magazine and hugging her sides.

"That was _funny_!" she said, staring at Ron, who suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"Are you taking the mickey?" he asked.

Bryt laughed again, shaking her head as Harry picked up the fallen magazine.

"Can I have a look at this?" he asked, looking over to Luna, who nodded while still staring at Ron.

Bryt and Ron looked over at Harry as he read through _The Quibbler_ some before closing it, an odd look on his face.

"Anything good in there?" Ron asked.

"Of course not," Hermione cut in, "_The Quibbler_'s rubbish, everyone knows that."

"Excuse me," Luna snapped, "My father's the editor."

Hermione suddenly looked embarrassed.

"Well...it's got something interesting..." she said awkwardly, obviously scrambling to cover up her insult, "I mean, it's quite..."

"I'll have that back, thank you," Luna said sharply, snatching the magazine out of Harry's hand and turning it upside down before hiding her face behind it again.

The compartment door opened again and Bryt looked up, unsurprised to see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in the doorway. It almost seemed like some type of obsession with Malfoy to always show up at some point on the trip to Hogwarts.

"What?" Harry asked sharply, glaring at Malfoy, who was smirking at them.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," Malfoy said with an air of superiority that made Bryt want to hit him, "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

"Yeah, but you, unlike me, are a git," Harry said, "So get out and leave us alone."

Bryt and the others laughed and Malfoy glared at them.

"Tell me, how does it feel to be second-best to Weasley, Potter?" he snapped.

"Piss off, Malfoy," Bryt snapped.

"I seem to have touched a nerve," Malfoy smirked, turning back to Harry, "Watch yourself, Potter, because I'll be _dogging_ your footsteps in case you step out of line."

Bryt pushed herself to her feet, but Malfoy laughed and left, Crabbe and Goyle following. Bryt went over and slammed the door shut before sitting back down next to Ron, glaring at the door, fuming. If Malfoy didn't stop taunting her friends, Bryt had a feeling she was going to end up punching the boy. It definitely wouldn't be the first time—and it seemed Malfoy just couldn't learn from his mistakes.

The weather stayed dreary the rest of the day, but to Bryt's relief, it didn't rain. As the train started to slow into Hogsmeade station, everyone started to pull on their robes and Bryt grinned as she noticed Ron was checking how his prefect badge looked by staring at his reflection in the train window.

Hermione and Ron had to go supervise as everyone was getting off the train, so Bryt and the others headed off on their own, Luna carrying Pigwidgeon for Ron. When they got off the train, Bryt looked over for Hagrid to wave to him, but couldn't spot him among the crowd. Instead, she heard the familiar voice of Grubby-Plank—who had substituted for Hagrid the year before—calling for the first years.

"Where's Hagrid?" Harry asked. He had apparently noticed the same thing Bryt did.

"I don't know," Ginny said, "But we'd better get out of the way, we're blocking the door."

"He's probably just sick or something," Bryt said worriedly as she and Harry made their way across the platform, separating from Ginny and Luna in the crowd.

When they got to the thestral-drawn carriages, Bryt and Harry stopped to wait for Ron and Hermione. Bryt jumped slightly when Harry suddenly grabbed her arm and she looked over at him.

"What?" she asked.

"What _are_ those things?" he asked, looking from the thestrals to Bryt, "Why are they pulling the carriages?"

Bryt looked over at the thestrals, then back to Harry. She should have known he'd be able to see them after what happened with Cedric. Still, it was odd to realize Bryt now shared this uncomfortable ability to see thestrals with Harry.

"They're thestrals," Bryt said simply, "They're pretty harmless, they've always pulled the carriages."

Harry stared at Bryt, confused.

"But...How come I haven't seen them before?"

"They can only be seen by those who've witnessed death," Bryt said, looking away and felt a wave of relief when she noticed Ron and Hermione coming over. Bryt headed towards them, not wanting the inevitable questions Harry would probably ask next. After all, even though Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew that Bryt's paternal grandparents had died when she was nine, none of them—not even Hermione—knew Bryt had watched her grandmother die in the hospital.

"Where's Pig?" Ron asked as Bryt readjusted the weight of Joey's cage in her arms.

"Luna offered to carry him," Bryt said, looking around for the girl. She noticed Malfoy and some other Slytherins shoving some second years out of the way to take the carriage for themselves.

"Malfoy was being absolutely foul to a first year back there," Hermione said, glaring towards Malfoy herself, "I swear I'm going to report him, he's only had his badge three minutes and he's using it to bully people worse than ever...Where's Crookshanks?"

"Ginny has him," Harry said, "There she is."

Bryt looked over to see Ginny coming over, carrying Crookshanks in her arms, followed shortly by Luna with Pigwidgeon. Once Hermione and Ron had their pets back, they made their way to an empty carriage.


	11. Ministry Interference

Once they were in the Great Hall, Bryt scanned the staff table and was disappointed that she couldn't see Hagrid among them.

"He's not here," Harry said as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

Bryt glanced around to make sure the Gryffindors around them weren't paying attention before she leaned closer to her friends.

"Maybe he's still doing whatever it is Dumbledore asked him to do at the beginning of summer," she whispered.

"Yeah...yeah, that'll be it," Ron said with a nod. Hermione, however, was still frowning and staring at the staff table.

"Who's that?" Hermione asked, pointing towards the staff table. Bryt looked over to Dumbledore at the center of the table, but Hermione had been pointing next to him. The woman was short, with curly mouse-brown hair and dressed in pink. When she turned to take a sip of her drink and Bryt could see the woman's face, she was strongly reminded of a toad.

"It's that Umbridge woman!" Harry said.

"Who?" Bryt and Hermione asked, turning back to Harry.

"She was at my hearing, she works for Fudge!"

"She works for Fudge?" Hermione asked, "What on earth's she doing here, then?" Hermione frowned, studying the table. "No, no surely not..."

Bryt raised an eyebrow at Hermione and looked over at Harry and Ron, though none of them had a chance to ask Hermione what she was thinking. Grubbly-Plank had arrived, sitting at the staff table. Not long after, McGonagall arrived with the first years. Bryt noticed most of them were looking around in expressions ranging from fear to excitement. Bryt remembered exactly what it was like to be up there.

McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on the stool as everyone grew quiet. After a moment, the hat opened its brim and began to sing:

_In times of old, when I was new,  
And Hogwarts barely started,  
The founders of our noble school  
Thought never to be parted._

_United by a common goal,  
They had the selfsame yearning  
To make the world's best magic school  
And pass along their learning._

_"Together we will build and teach"  
The four good friends decided.  
And never did they dream that they  
Might some day be divided._

_For were there such friends anywhere  
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?  
Unless it was the second pair  
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw,_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?  
How could such friendships fail?  
Why, I was there, so I can tell  
The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those  
Whose ancestry's purest."  
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose  
Intelligence is surest."_

_Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those  
With brave deeds to their name."  
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot  
And treat them just the same."_

_These differences caused little strife  
When first they came to light.  
For each of the four founders had  
A house in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,  
For instance, Slytherin  
Took only pure-blood wizards  
Of great cunning just like him._

_And only those of sharpest mind  
Were taught by Ravenclaw  
While the bravest and the boldest  
Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest  
and taught them all she knew,  
Thus, the houses and their founders  
Maintained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony  
for several happy years,  
but then discord crept among us  
feeding on our faults and fears._

_The Houses that, like pillars four  
had once held up our school  
now turned upon each other and  
divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school  
must meet an early end.  
what with dueling and with fighting  
and the clash of friend on friend._

_And at last there came a morning  
when old Slytherin departed  
and though the fighting then died out  
he left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four  
were whittled down to three  
have the Houses been united  
as they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here  
and you all know the score:  
I sort you into Houses  
because that is what I'm for._

_But this year I'll go further,  
listen closely to my song:  
though condemned I am to split you  
still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfill my duty  
and must quarter every year  
still I wonder whether sorting  
may not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,  
the warning history shows,  
for our Hogwarts is in danger  
from external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her  
or we'll crumble from within  
I have told you, I have warned you...  
let the Sorting now begin._

The hall filled with applause, though most everyone was whispering as well. It wasn't hard to figure out what everyone had to be talking about.

"Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it?" Ron asked.

"No kidding," Bryt replied, "It ever done anything like that before?"

"Yes, indeed," the Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, said and Bryt tensed slightly. Four years and she still couldn't get used to being around the school ghosts—especially when they did things like lean through students, like Nick was doing with Neville right now.

"The hat feels itself honor-bound to give the school due warning whenever it feels—"

Nearly Headless Nick was cut off by McGonagall, who had cleared her throat to silence the crowd so she could begin calling the first years forward one by one for the Sorting.

Bryt watched the line of first years slowly thin, clapping each time one joined the Gryffindor table. Her stomach was growling, reminding her that all she had eaten that day were a few sweets from the trolley. Bryt was ready for the Sorting to be over and the feast to begin.

Finally, the final first year was Sorted, and Dumbledore rose to his feet.

"To our newcomers," Dumbledore said, his arms outstretched, "Welcome! To our old hands—welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

Food began appearing across the tables and Bryt started piling her one plate, eager for a good meal.

"What were you saying before the Sorting?" Hermione asked Nick as she put food on her own plate, "About the hat giving warnings?"

"Oh yes," Nick said, looking over at Hermione, "Yes, I have heard the hat give several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: Stand together, be strong from within."

Ron suddenly said something through a mouthful of food and Bryt stared at him, wondering how he had managed any sound with how packed his mouth was.

"I beg your pardon?" Nick asked. Ron swallowed down his food.

"How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a hat?" he asked.

"I have no idea. Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there."

"It's crazy if it expects us to be friends with Slytherins," Bryt said with a glare towards Malfoy and his gang.

"Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude. Peaceful cooperation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate Houses, maintain links of friendship. In spite of the competitiveness between Gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron."

"Only because you're terrified of him," Ron said.

Nearly Headless Nick straightened himself up, looking offended.

"Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins—"

"What blood? Surely you haven't still got—"

"It's a figure of speech!" Nick snapped, and Bryt had to look away as it seemed Nick's head was about to fall off his shoulders—only held by that one thin strand of skin, "I assume I'm still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like even if the pleasures of eating and drinking are denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!"

Though they tried to reassure Nick that Ron wasn't trying to make fun of him, the ghost left anyway. Bryt wasn't that broken up over Nearly Headless Nick leaving, considering how uncomfortable she was around ghosts. But she still didn't like the idea of hurting Nick's feelings.

They didn't talk much for the rest of the meal, and Bryt was soon looking forward to her warm bed up in the Gryffindor tower. Finally, the last of the desserts disappeared from the tables and Dumbledore stood up again.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," he said, grinning as he looked around, "First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students—and a few of our older students ought to know by now too. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door."

Bryt glanced at Harry and Ron, and it was clear they were thinking the same thing she was. Only a very few people would even so much as glance at that list.

"We have two changes in the staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Weak applause filled the room and Bryt exchanged a worried look with her friends. Dumbledore didn't say how long Grubbly-Plank would be there. Just what was Hagrid up to that he was going to be gone so long?

"Tryouts for the House Quidditch Teams will take place on the—"

Dumbledore cut himself off, looking at Umbridge next to him. Bryt looked over and realized the woman had stood up, showing how short she was, and gave a quick "_Hem, hem_" that echoed through the stunned Great Hall. Bryt looked back at her friends in surprise. No one had ever interrupted Dumbledore's speech before, let alone to make a speech themself. Umbridge had a lot of nerve.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Umbridge said, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face, "For those kind words of welcome."

Umbridge had a sort of high-pitched voice that, for some reason, reminded Bryt of a small girl. The woman grinned again, gave another quick "_Hem, hem_," and continued her speech.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

Bryt tensed, glaring. This woman was acting like they were four, not eleven-through-seventeen. She had a feeling that Umbridge would be a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that Bryt would be glad to see gone by the end of the year.

_'Hopefully that curse holds up and she will be,'_ Bryt thought, remembering how no Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had ever lasted more than a year at Hogwarts.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be good friends!"

"Don't count on it," Bryt muttered, and Ron snorted next to her while Hermione glared from across the table.

"_Hem, hem_," Umbridge went on, and Bryt had a feeling that she would soon hate that throat-clearing sound as much as she hated Malfoy or Snape, "The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering."

Bryt began to zone out then, knowing that she would just have a headache if she tried to keep paying attention. From what Bryt could tell, Umbridge was telling them that they should try to prefect techniques they already have instead of coming up with new, but at the same time, saying that progressing anything was wrong and everything was perfect at it already was. Bryt wished the woman would make up her mind.

Bryt propped her head in her hand, knowing better than to try and talk with Hermione right across from her, paying attention to every word Umbridge was saying. Bryt always envied Hermione's ability to pay attention to anything. For Bryt, Umbridge's speech was making History of Magic seem like an intense Quidditch match.

Bryt was feeling drowsy, her head bobbing slightly, only to be jerked awake every now and then by the sound of someone giggling somewhere in the room, or whispers nearby at the Gryffindor table. After what felt like an eternity, Bryt felt a sharp jab in her side and she jerked up, blinking as she noticed Umbridge had sat down again. Dumbledore was on his feet, continuing his start-of-term speech that he had started earlier.

"Sounded like a load of waffle to me," Harry was saying.

"There was some important stuff in that waffle," Hermione replied, "How about 'progress for progress's sake must be discouraged'? How about 'pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited'?"

"Gave me a headache trying to sort that out," Bryt said and Hermione got an annoyed look on her face.

"It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts," Hermione said simply.

_'How did Hermione get all that from that pile of garbage?'_ Bryt thought, amazed, but also worried. If the Ministry really was trying to gain a foothold at Hogwarts, then nothing good was going to come from it. Especially after their insistence that Dumbledore was a crackpot. If Hermione was right, then there was a good chance the Ministry was going to try and force Dumbledore out of his headmaster position, and nothing good would come from that.

People were getting up around them and Bryt suddenly realized that Dumbledore had finished his speech. Hermione leapt to her feet, straightening her robes.

"Ron, we're supposed to show the first years where to go!"

"Oh yeah...Hey—hey you lot! Midgets!"

"_Ron_!"

"Well, they are, they're titchy..."

"I know, but you can't call them midgets..." Hermione shook her head before waving her hand in the air and calling down the table, "First years! This way, please!"

Bryt and Harry left so Hermione and Ron could take care of their prefect duties. Harry seemed uncomfortable with everyone staring and whispering, so he and Bryt went through lesser-used shortcuts to avoid the crowds. The two walked in silence, Bryt still thinking about what Hermione had told them. There was one thing for sure: They were going to have to watch their step around this Umbridge woman.

Bryt was so lost in thought that she hadn't realized they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady until she nearly walked into it. It was then that Bryt suddenly realized something.

"We really should have asked Hermione and Ron for the password before we headed off..." she said slowly.

"No password, no entrance," the Fat Lady said simply.

"Harry, Bryt, I know it!"

Bryt turned around to see Neville running up to them, looking excited.

"Guess what it is?" Neville asked brightly, holding up his plant he showed them on the train, "I'm actually going to be able to remember it for once! _Mimbulus mimbletonia_!"

"Correct," the Fat Lady said, her portrait swinging open.

"Thanks Neville," Bryt said with a grin, heading into the common room with him and Harry. Bryt bade goodnight to the boys before heading up the stairway leading to the girls' dormitories.

When Bryt entered the room, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were already ready for bed, and they both fell silent, watching Bryt. It didn't take a genius to figure out what they had been talking about seconds before.

Bryt didn't want to get on the subject, instead pulling her pajamas out of her trunk and beginning to change. She noticed from the corner of her eye that Lavender seemed to hesitate, but finally straightened up as she stared at Bryt.

"You don't honestly believe Harry, do you?" she asked, "I mean, you're just telling him you do since he's your friend—"

Bryt glared at Lavender.

"I believe him completely," she said sharply, fighting to keep her temper in check, "He wouldn' lie 'bout somethin' like this. He saw Voldemort come back."

Both Lavender and Parvati flinched when Bryt used Voldemort's name, but she didn't care.

"If y'two wanna be ignorant and believe the Ministry's crap, go ahead," Bryt said, "But keep quiet 'bout it 'round me."

She finished changing and sat on her bed, lining the nightstand with her usual famed photos of her with her friends, plus the model Hungarian Horntail that Harry gave Bryt the year before. Bryt then turned, yanking the curtains closed around her bed, not wanting to invite any more conversation from Lavender of Parvati. She could hear the two girls whispering nearby, though.

Bryt rolled over on her side as she heard the door open, which she assumed was Hermione done showing the first years to the Gryffindor tower. Bryt closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep. She had a feeling she had a long day tomorrow.


	12. Insightful Morning

The next morning was awkward for everyone in the dormitory. Lavender kept shooting Bryt odd looks, and Bryt was glad when she finished dressing and could head out of the room. Shortly after, Hermione came down the stairs just has Harry and Ron came down from the boys' dormitories. Bryt blinked as she noticed Harry seemed as if he were ready to hit something. Before Bryt could ask, though, Hermione gave out a frustrated groan and started towards the notice board. Bryt followed Hermione, reading the poster Hermione had obviously found offensive:

**GALLONS OF GALLEONS!**

**Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?**

**Like to earn a little extra gold?**

**Contact Fred and George Weasley,**

**Gryffindor common room,**

**For simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs**

**(we regret that all work is undertaken at applicant's own risk)**

"They are at the limit," Hermione hissed, tearing down the advertisement, as she turned back to the others, "We'll have to talk to them, Ron."

"Why?" Ron blurted, looking horrified at the idea.

"Because we're prefects! It's up to us to stop this kind of thing!"

"So, what's wrong, Harry?" Bryt asked before Ron and Hermione could go further with their argument as they left the common room. Though she made a mental note to talk to Mike and Natalie later and warn them against doing any type of work for Fred and George.

Harry didn't answer Bryt, staring straight ahead with the same sour look she saw earlier.

"Seamus reckons Harry's lying about You-Know-Who," Ron said. Bryt and Hermione both sighed.

"Lavender does, too," Bryt said.

"Been having a nice little chat with her about whether or not I'm lying, attention-seeking prat, have you?" Harry snapped and Bryt glared at him.

"Actually, I told her to keep her opinions to herself," Bryt shot back.

"It would be quite nice if you stopped jumping down our throats, Harry," Hermione added, "Because if you haven't noticed, we're on your side."

Harry looked away quickly and was quiet for a moment before muttering an apology.

"We all have bad days," Bryt said with a shrug.

"Don't you remember what Dumbledore said at the end-of-term feast last year?" Hermione asked.

"Something about standing together..." Bryt said slowly. Hermione sighed in annoyance.

"When he was talking about You-Know-Who," she said, "He said, _'His gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust—'_"

"How do you remember that stuff?" Ron and Bryt asked.

"I listen."

"So do I," Ron replied, "But I still couldn't tell you exactly what—"

"The point," Hermione cut in, "Is that this sort of thing is exactly what Dumbledore was talking about. You-Know-Who's only been back two months, and we've started fighting among ourselves. And the Sorting Hat's warning was the same—stand together, be united—"

"I'm still not befriending Slytherins," Bryt said sharply as they reached the foot of the marble staircase. A group of Ravenclaws a year below them were a little further ahead. When they noticed Harry, they moved closer together and nearly tripped over each other in their rush to get into the Great Hall.

"Yeah, we really ought to be trying to make friend with people like that," Harry spat.

The four made their way into the Great Hall, but before they could get to the Gryffindor table, Angelina Johnson made her way over to them.

"Good summer?" she asked, but before they could answer, she continued, looking at Harry, "Listen, I've been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. We need a new Keeper now Oliver's left. Tryouts are on Friday at five o'clock and I want the whole team there, all right? Then we can see how the new person'll fit in."

Bryt glanced towards Ron from the corner of her eye and could see he was already starting to look nervous, though he was obviously trying to hide it. Angelina headed off and the four made their way on towards the Gryffindor table, sitting about halfway along.

"I'd forgotten Wood had left," Hermione said as she picked up a couple of pieces of toast, "I suppose that will make quite a difference to the team?"

"I s'pose," Harry replied, "He was a good Keeper."

"Still, it won't hurt to have some new blood, will it?" Ron asked and Bryt grinned at him.

"'Course not," she said as hundreds of owls came flying in overhead with the morning mail. Bryt paid for her usual _Daily Prophet_, then unfolded the paper to scan through it.

"What are you still getting that for?" Harry asked, "I'm not bothering...load of rubbish."

"I think she has the right idea," Hermione said, "It's best to know what the enemy are saying."

Bryt ate slowly as she went through the newspaper, looking for any sign of Harry or Dumbledore being mentioned in the paper. When she finished, she pushed the paper in her schoolbag and noticed the others staring at her.

"Nothing today," she said, picking up another piece of bacon as McGonagall passed them, handing out their schedules. Bryt groaned as she noticed their Monday involved History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts. Definitely the worst line-up they could have gotten.

Apparently, Ron agreed, beginning wondering out loud if Fred and George were done with their Skiving Snackboxes.

"Do mine ears deceive me?" Fred asked in an air of mock-superiority as he and George sat down next to their group, "Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?"

"Look what we've got today," Ron replied, showing Fred the schedule, "That's the worst Monday I've ever seen."

"Fair point, bro," Fred said, "You can have a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like."

"Why's it cheap?"

"Because you'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up, we haven't gotten an antidote yet," George said.

"Thanks," Bryt said with a snort, "But I'd rather be bored to death than bleed to death."

"And speaking of your Skiving Snackboxes," Hermione spoke up, "You can't advertise for testers on the Gryffindor notice board."

"Says who?"

"Says me. And Ron."

Ron choked on his toast.

"Leave me out of it," he said and Hermione glared at him.

"You'll be singing a different tune soon enough, Hermione," Fred said, "You're starting your fifth year, you'll be begging us for a Snackbox before long."

"And why would starting fifth year mean I want a Skiving Snackbox?" Hermione asked, irritated.

"Fifth year's OWL year."

"So?"

"So you've got exams coming up, haven't you? They'll be keeping your noses so hard to that grindstone they'll be rubbed raw," Fred said simply.

"Half our year had minor breakdowns coming up to OWLs," George added, "Tears and tantrums...Patricia Stimpson kept coming over faint."

"Kenneth Towler came out in boils, d'you remember?"

"That's 'cause you put Bulbadox Powder in his pajamas."

"Oh yeah...I'd forgotten. Hard to keep track sometimes, isn't it?"

Bryt snorted into her pumpkin juice. She couldn't help but feel extremely sorry for the poor guys who shared a dormitory with Fred and George.

"It's a nightmare of a year, fifth," George said, "If you care about exam results anyway. Fred and I managed to keep our spirits up somehow."

"Yeah, and you got, what was it, three OWLs each?" Ron asked.

"Even Sofí did better than that on her KAEs," Bryt said and Fred grinned at her.

"We just feel our futures lie outside the world of academic achievement," he said.

"We seriously debated on whether we were going to bother coming back four our seventh year," George said, "Not that we've got our OWLs. I mean, do we really need NEWTs? But we didn't think Mum could take us leaving school early, not on top of Percy turning out to be the world's biggest prat."

"We're not going to waste our last year here, though," Fred said, "We're going to use it to do a bit of market research, find out exactly what the average Hogwarts student requires from his joke shop, carefully evaluate the results of our research, and then produce the products to fit the demand."

_ 'Wow, they've actually put a lot of thought into this,'_ Bryt thought, impressed. She had always thought Fred and George's idea of opening a joke shop was simply because they thought it'd be fun. Hearing that they were focusing so much on things like marketing and demand showed they were very serious about this career choice.

"But where are you going to get the gold to start a joke shop?" Hermione asked, "You're going to need all the ingredients and materials—and premises, too, I suppose..."

"Not to mention paying anyone stupid enough to be your test subjects," Bryt added.

"Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies, ladies," Fred said with an odd sort of grin, "C'mon, George, if we get there early we might be able to sell a few Extendable Ears before Herbology."

Fred and George headed off and Bryt looked over at her friends and noticed Hermione looked worried.

"What did that mean?" she asked, "'Ask us no questions...' Does that mean they've already got some gold to start a joke shop?"

"You know, I've been wondering about that," Ron replied, "They bought me a new set of dress robes this summer, and I couldn't understand where they got the Galleons..."

Bryt glanced off towards the Great Hall doors, worried. She could only hope that Fred and George hadn't gotten into anything illegal to get that money—after all, last she knew, they were broke after losing their money to Bagman the year before. They had even tried blackmailing him to get that money back—and she knew Fred and George's money for those ingredients and paying students had to come from _somewhere_.

"D'you reckon it's true this year's going to be rough? Because of our exams?"

Bryt turned back to her friends as they got up and started across the Great Hall.

"If they're anything like the KAEs at Salem, most likely," Bryt said, "Sofí wrote a lot about how stressed Julio got during his KAE year, and how Astrid and Dante were practically insufferable last year."

"Not to mention OWLs affect the jobs you can apply for and everything," Ron said, "We get career advice, too, later this year. Bill told me about it. So you can choose what NEWTs you want to do next year."

"D'you know what you want to do after Hogwarts?" Harry asked as they started up the stairs for their History of Magic classroom.

"I'm still aiming for MCRS," Bryt said simply. Ever since Terry had told her about the Magical Creature Removal Squad, Bryt had been fascinated by the idea of working with magical creatures on a near-daily basis. Bryt looked over at Ron and Hermione. "What about you two?"

Ron looked a bit embarrassed, not meeting their gaze.

"Well, it'd be cool to be an Auror," he admitted, and Bryt knew Ron enough to tell that he was trying to make it seem like it wasn't that big of a deal, when he actually thought otherwise.

"Yeah, it would," Harry agreed.

Bryt admired the work of Aurors, especially after meeting Tonks, Emily, Moody, and Kingsley, but she knew well enough that a job like that wasn't for her. She was much better suited to MCRS—though Ron once said it was simply the 'magical creature version of Aurors.'

"But they're, like, the elite," Ron went on, "You've got to be really good. What about you, Hermione?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, her brow wrinkled in thought, "Julio and I talked about it a lot over the summer...I think I'd like to do something worthwhile."

"An Auror's worthwhile!" Harry said in the same offended tone he often had when Hermione criticized the others' enthusiasm over Quidditch.

"Yes, it is," Hermione said defensively, "But it's not the only worthwhile thing. I mean, Bryt wants to join MCRS, and Julio wants to be a Healer. Both of those are just as worthwhile as an Auror..." Hermione wrinkled her brow in thought again. "Bryt and I have talked about taking SPEW further once we're out of school..."

"But I'm still going to work with MCRS, too," Bryt said, "You can still have a career and work with SPEW."

Hermione nodded, but didn't say anything else as they entered the History of Magic classroom. Bryt found it surprising that Hermione—the girl who planned everything down to specific times for studying each subject, and took it upon herself to do the same for others—didn't have a plan for after leaving Hogwarts besides 'furthering SPEW'.

_'Maybe she'll decide as this year goes on,'_ Bryt thought as she sat between Harry and Ron. They certainly had plenty of time to think on it.


	13. Dolores Umbridge

The morning was just as bad as Bryt had thought it would be. They suffered through the usual boring History of Magic. Bryt tried to take notes, but soon gave up after nearly falling asleep on her parchment, so she played hangman with Harry and Ron—something Hermione criticized them for afterwards.

Potions class was even worse. Snape had them making a Draught of Living Peace—which Bryt did very well with, as she had an almost natural gift for potion-making—though Snape caused problems during that class. Harry's potion—which was done quite well, though not perfect, and by far not the worst potion in the room—received zero marks. Bryt was sure this was just because Snape hated Harry. On top of that, Snape also gave them an essay on moonstone properties to complete.

"He's a git," Bryt hissed as they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch, "Harry's potion wasn' perfect, but it wasn' bad, either. At least his didn' catch fire or shoot sparks."

"Yeah, well, since when has Snape ever been fair to me?" Harry replied.

"Good point."

They had reached the Great Hall, and took seats, eager for a good lunch.

"I did think he might be a bit better this year," Hermione said, glancing around before lowering her voice, "Now that he's in the Order and everything."

"I wouldn't count on it," Bryt said, "And can we please stop talking about Snape here? I'd rather enjoy my lunch, not lose my appetite."

"Cheers," Ron said, and Hermione glared at them, but kept quiet.

After lunch was Divination, Bryt's least favorite subject. She sat in the stuffy classroom between Harry and Ron—though everyone else was only in pairs, Bryt sat with her friends in their group of three. Bryt had once sat with Hermione, until she left the class, leaving the numbers uneven. Bryt was relieved that this class wasn't a double-period, and that she only had to suffer one more year of it. She definitely wasn't going to continue Divination in her NEWT years.

"Good day," Trelawney said as she entered the room, "And welcome back to Divination. I have, of course, been following your fortunes most carefully over the holidays, and am delighted to see that you have all returned to Hogwarts safely—as, of course, I knew you would."

Bryt snorted, covering it with a cough. Trelawney loved predicting tragedy and death in something as simple as an empty bowl. She was probably disappointed that all her students were sitting here unharmed—it meant she lost a chance to rant about how the world was ending or something.

"You will find on the tables before you _The Dream Oracle_, by Inigo Imago. Dream interpretation is a most important means of divining the future and that may very probably be tested on your OWL. Not, of course, that I believe examination passes or failures are of the remotest importance when it comes to the sacred art of divination. If you have the Seeing Eye, certificates and grades matter very little. However, the headmaster likes you to sit the examination, so..."

Trelawney let her voice trail off and Bryt rolled her eyes. She should have realized they'd be doing dream interpretation stuff after how Sofí talked about it during her last year at Salem.

Though the thought brought back to Bryt's mind Sofí's odd behavior a couple of days before, and the dream diary that she had been trying to hide.

_'Not that it matters, she was fine yesterday,'_ Bryt thought. Whatever it was that had bothered Sofí earlier, she was obviously over it.

"Turn, please, to the introduction and read what Imago has to say on the matter of dream interpretation. Then divide into pairs. Using _The Dream Oracle_ to interpret each other's most recent dreams. Carry on."

The reading was boring and time consuming, only leaving them a few minutes at the end of class for the partner work.

"I never remember any of my dreams," Ron said, looking towards Harry and Bryt, "You say one."

Bryt tensed slightly, thinking of the nightmares she had over the summer about what happened with Wormtail and her friends hating her for it—a nightmare that came true, if even for a short time, with Ron. Bryt glanced at him, knowing that there was no way she was going to bring these nightmares up around Harry. Especially considering how moody Harry had been lately and was so prone to snapping over the smallest things.

Ron caught her gaze and seemed to guess what she was thinking because he suddenly looked uncomfortable. Luckily, Harry didn't seem to notice, his gaze focused on his book.

"You must remember one of them," Harry said, not looking up.

Ron made a face, obviously trying to think of something.

"Well, I had one that I was playing Quidditch the other night," he said slowly, "What d'you reckon that means?"

"Probably that you're going to be eaten by a giant marshmallow or something."

Despite herself, Bryt started giggling at that. Though it didn't do much to lighten the mood for the rest of the class—especially after Trelawney assigned them a month-long assignment of keeping a dream diary.

"Should have known Treloony wouldn't give us a break," Bryt said as they made their way towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, "The homework just keeps piling up...Though I, for one, ain't about to put my dreams in that journal. I'll just make something up—Wouldn't be the first time."

"At first, I thought Fred and George were joking about OWL year," Ron said sourly, "That Umbridge woman had better not give us any homework...We have enough already."

They met up with Hermione right outside the classroom and they sat together towards the middle of the classroom, though they didn't talk. Bryt was watching Umbridge, wondering if this teacher would be one she hated or not. If first impressions from the feast last night—and from what Harry had told her—were anything to go by, Bryt knew she wouldn't be upset at all to see this woman leave at the end of the year if she found the same fate as the previous four teachers.

"Well, good afternoon!" Umbridge said once everyone were in their seats and she was met by a weak muttering in response, "Tut, tut. That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge."

"There now, that wasn't too difficult, was it?"

Bryt rolled her eyes, though kept her head down so Umbridge couldn't see. More and more, this woman was treating them about the same as Bryt's kindergarten teacher did back in Charleston. Bryt didn't like that treatment when she was five—like most any kid hated being treated like a kid—and definitely didn't like it now that she was fifteen.

"Wands away and quills out, please."

Once Umbridge seemed sure that everyone had done as instructed, she took out her own wand—which Bryt noticed was quite short, about the same length as her own—and tapped the blackboard with it, causing a neat, cursive handwriting to form across it:

_Defense Against the Dark Arts_

_A Return to Basic Principles_

Bryt sighed. It seemed Umbridge was confusing her fifth years with first years. They all knew the basic principles of defending themselves already.

"Well now your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" Umbridge said, looking around the class with that disgusting smile that Bryt was already beginning to hate, "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year."

_'We know plenty about defending ourselves, thank you very much,'_ Bryt thought, biting on her tongue to keep from saying it out loud. She had a feeling it wouldn't be wise to get on this woman's bad side.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

"_Theory_-centered?" Bryt echoed in a whisper, glad that the shuffling of parchment and quills around her kept Umbridge from hearing her. Hermione glanced at her with a look that told Bryt that she, at least, was thinking along the same lines: 'Theory-centered' seemed to give the impression that this class wouldn't involve any type of magic using.

Bryt sighed and picked up her quill, following the example of the rest of the class by copying down what Umbridge had written on the blackboard:

_Course aims:_

_1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic._

_2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used._

_3. Placing the use of defensive magic in context for practical use._

"Has everybody got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

A weak muttering came in answer.

"I think we'll try that again," Umbridge said simply, "When I ask a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes Professor Umbridge', or 'No Professor Umbridge'. So, has everyone got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," the class chorused.

"Good. I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."

Bryt sighed as Umbridge sat at her desk, looking over the group of students intensely. Bryt bowed her head over her book, flipping it to page five and started to read. She barely got past the first sentence when she realized that Defense Against the Dark Arts with Umbridge was going to be worse than any History of Magic lesson.

Bryt fought back a yawn, propping her chin in her hand as she stared at the page, not really reading it, as she let her mind wander. She began daydreaming about how the Quidditch practices she was planning with Ron would go, and how great it would be for him to be a part of the Gryffindor team—a great part, if Ron's games with his brothers were any judge.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?"

Bryt jumped, jerked from her daydreams of Quidditch by Umbridge. For a second, she thought Umbridge might have noticed she hadn't been reading, but then Bryt realized that the teacher was looking at Hermione next to her. Bryt blinked, looking over at Hermione, surprised to see the girl hadn't even opened her book. It wasn't like Hermione to ignore a teacher's instructions.

"Not about the chapter, no," Hermione said simply.

"Well, we're reading just now," Umbridge replied, giving that sickeningly sweet smile again, "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims."

Umbridge raised an eyebrow, as if she thought that asking a question about the course aims was as idiotic as asking if people need air to live.

"And your name is?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully."

"Well, I don't," Hermione said simply, which surprised Bryt. Like ignoring a teacher's instructions, for Hermione to argue with a teacher was also something extremely unlikely from her. "There's nothing written up there about _using_ defensive spells."

Bryt had already figured that they wouldn't be using magic in this class, but it was still off-putting to hear Hermione say it out loud. The rest of the class seemed to be realizing what Hermione had said as most of them were now looking back at the board with various looks of curiosity and disappointment.

"_Using_ defensive spells?" Umbridge asked with a laugh, sounded as if the idea were as ridiculous as the sky being made of cats, "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

"How can we learn to use the spells without actually _using_ them?" Bryt asked.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Miss..."

"Bryt Watkins," Bryt answered, raising her hand as she continued, "Will you answer my question now?"

Umbridge simple smiled and turned away. Bryt glared at her as, on either side, Ron, Hermione, and Harry all shot their hands into the air. Umbridge looked over them before finally looking to Hermione.

"Miss Granger? You want to ask something else?"

"Yes," Hermione said, lowering her hand, "Bryt has a point. Isn't the whole idea of Defense Against the Dark Arts class to practice defensive spells?"

Umbridge stared at Hermione intently, waiting a few seconds before she answered.

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?"

"No, but—"

"Well, then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole idea' of my class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way—"

"What use is that?" Harry asked, his voice rising, "If we're going to be attacked it won't be in a—"

"Hand, Mr. Potter!"

Harry rose his hand up so quickly that he nearly hit Ron next to him, but Umbridge chose to ignore him, as she had with Bryt earlier. Though by now, half the class had their hands in the air.

"And your name is?" Umbridge asked as she looked towards Dean.

"Dean Thomas."

"Well, Mr. Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it? If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free—"

"I repeat," Umbridge cut in, still smiling, though there was an almost hostile edge to her voice now, "Do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

"No, but—"

"I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school," Umbridge cut Dean off, raising her voice slightly, "But you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed—not to mention extremely dangerous half-breeds."

Bryt glared, knowing instantly that Umbridge was referring to Remus Lupin. Dean obviously thought so, too, as he raised his own voice.

"If you mean Professor Lupin, he was the best we ever—"

"_Hand_, Mr. Thomas!" Umbridge snapped, "As I was saying—you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day—"

"That's not true!"

"_Your hand is not up, Miss Watkins!_"

Bryt glared, sticking her hand in the air at the same time as Hermione next to her. Umbridge, once again, ignored them.

"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only preformed illegal curses in front of you, he actually preformed then _on_ you—"

Bryt was gripping her free hand on the edge of her desk, easily remembering the year before when Barty Crouch Jr.—disguised as Moody—taught them to resist the Imperius Curse by preforming it on them and having them try to fight it in turns. That was something Bryt didn't want to dwell on, let alone having this horrid woman remind her of it.

"Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he? Mind you, we still learned loads—"

"_Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!_ Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about." Umbridge turned towards Parvati, who raised her hand. "And your name is?"

"Parvati Patil. And isn't there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the countercurses and things?"

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions."

"Y'can read 'bout somethin' all y'want," Bryt snapped, her hand in the air, "It don' do squat compared t'actually practicin' it."

"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" Harry added, his hand in the air as well.

"This is a school, Mr. Potter, not the real world."

"Oh yeah?" Harry asked angrily, his hand still in the air.

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" Umbridge asked sharply.

"Hm...Let me think...Maybe _Lord Voldemort_?"

Bryt flinched—not from the name, but from the fact that she knew Harry just made a grave mistake. The class had fallen silent and Umbridge was staring at Harry as if he were some type of diseased rat—though she also looked oddly satisfied.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

Bryt glared, suddenly realizing what Umbridge had seemed happy about. She had been waiting for any excuse to punish Harry, and he had given her a perfect one just now. Umbridge straightened herself up, looking around at the class.

"Now, let me make a few things quite plain," she said, "You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead—"

"He wasn't dead, but yeah, he's returned!"

"_Mr.-Potter-your-have-already-lost-your-Hose-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself!_" Umbridge hissed out as quickly as she could, not even looking at him, "As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. _This is a lie_."

"It is not a lie! I saw him, I fought him!" Harry yelled.

"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge said, sounding as if she were planning this all along, "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, _this is a lie_. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs and reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners'."

Umbridge sat back down at her desk and Bryt was shaking in anger, gripping the sides of her desk. She was biting hard on her tongue to keep from lashing out—causing trouble was the last thing they needed right now. Harry, however, seemed to be having a lot more trouble controlling his anger as he pushed himself to his feet.

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?"

Bryt stared at Harry, taken off guard. There had only been one time she ever heard him mention Cedric's death, and it had been at the beginning of summer when he finally told her, Hermione and Ron about what happened.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," Umbridge said coldly, glaring at Harry.

"It was murder," Harry shot back, his entire body shaking, "Voldemort killed him, and you know it."

Silence fell over the room, the entire class staring at either Harry or Umbridge. Bryt kept her gaze focused on Harry, half-proud, and half-annoyed at his speaking out. After several seconds, Umbridge finally spoke up.

"Come here, Mr. Potter, dear."

Harry shoved his chair out of the way and Bryt watched as he made his way to the front desk. She already knew this was going to be trouble. She watched as Umbridge took a piece of pink parchment and wrote something down before handing it to Harry.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear," she said sweetly.

Harry snatched the note from Umbridge's hand and stomped out of the room without looking at anyone. The class broke into a few whispers, but Umbridge silenced them quickly.

"Now that that distraction is out of the way," she said, looking over the class with an expression that dared another student to speak out again, "Turn your books back to page five and continue reading 'Basics for Beginners'."

Bryt looked down at her opened book, but didn't go back to reading. She glanced at Ron and Hermione on either side of her and could tell they were thinking the same thing she was. Dolores Umbridge was trouble. They didn't know how much yet, but they were all sure now that this woman at Hogwarts would not lead to anything pleasant. All they could do now was be on guard and watch their step around Umbridge, or else they could end up in a lot more trouble than detention.


	14. OWL Year

Bryt didn't see Harry again until dinner, and by then it seemed the entire school knew about what happened between Harry and Umbridge. Bryt sat with her friends, trying to ignore the whispering and staring other students were doing. She glanced up at the bewitched ceiling, glaring at the hard rain coming down. The one thing she had been looking forward to on their first day was practicing Quidditch with Ron—and now that wouldn't happen. Bryt couldn't think of a worse first day of classes that she could have gone through.

"What I don't get," Harry hissed and Bryt looked over at him, noticing he was shaking from anger again, "Is why they all believed the story two months ago when Dumbledore told them..."

"The thing is, I'm not sure they did," Hermione replied, looking around before pushing herself to her feet, "Let's get out of here."

Bryt got up herself, not having much of an appetite anyway and glad for an excuse to get away from the whispering.

"What did you mean?" Harry asked, looking to Hermione once they started up the stairway, "About not being sure they believed Dumbledore?"

"Harry, it was chaotic that night," Bryt said quietly, staring up ahead. She could all-too-easily remember what it was like in the crowd when Harry appeared with Cedric Diggory's body and the panic that followed. She remembered the horrified cries and screams, her brothers' pale faces, their friends still as statues, and little Natalie curled up in a ball of shock...

Bryt reached out and gripped Ron's hand, trying to push back the memories, looking back over at Harry and Hermione.

"None of us saw what happened in the maze," Hermione said weakly, her own face pale and Bryt knew she was thinking about that night as well, "We just had Dumbledore's word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you."

"Which is the truth!" Harry snapped.

"We know, Harry," Bryt said, "Trust me, we know."

"It's just that before the truth could sink in," Hermione went on, "Everyone went home for the summer, where they spent two months reading about how you're a nutcase and Dumbledore's going senile."

They had reached the common room and Bryt was glad for the subject drop. They made their way to their usual place near the fire. Trying to distract herself more, Bryt fished out some parchment and her quill to start on her Potions essay—the only homework assignment she had at the moment that she felt confident in doing.

Bryt was halfway through her third paragraph when Hermione suddenly slammed her hands down on the arms of her chair. Bryt jumped, knocking over her ink bottle and causing it to spill over her essay. She cursed under her breath as she used her wand to clean it up, looking over at Hermione.

"How can Dumbledore have let this happen?" Hermione asked angrily, banging her hands on her chair again, "How can he let that terrible woman teach us? And in our OWL year, too!"

"Maybe he couldn't find anyone else," Bryt said, relieved that she managed to save what she had done so far on her essay, "We've never had a teacher last more than a year. Even if this horrible old cow won't teach us, Dumbledore probably didn't have any choice in hiring her. I bet the Ministry's behind it."

"To spy on us, obviously," Ron said, "Remember when she said she wanted us to come and tell her if we hear anyone saying You-Know-Who's back?"

"Can we not talk about this?" Harry asked, then looking at Bryt's essay, "Let's just do that homework, get it out of the way..."

"Thanks for your warning, Bryt."

Bryt looked up to see Mike and Natalie standing nearby, grinning.

"Fred and George just tried to corner us," Mike said, nodding towards the far side of the room. Bryt looked over to see the Weasley twins with their friend, Lee Jordan, surrounded by a group of first years, "Asked us if we'd like some Galleons just to try some sweets they made."

"They've gone too far," Hermione said, standing up, "Come on, Ron."

"I—what?" Ron looked horrified, "No—come on, Hermione—we can't tell them off for giving out sweets..."

"You heard Mike," Hermione shot back, "They're trying to test their Snackboxes on others."

Bryt looked over and noticed, one by one, the first years began to topple over unconscious. Hermione sighed and headed off towards them, but Ron stayed put, muttering that Hermione could handle it on her own.

"We told them we knew better than to take any job they offered us," Natalie said, turning back to them, "I told him to take the sweets and shove them. One of them—not sure which, they're hard to tell apart—looked offended about that, though. I have no idea why."

Bryt snorted while Ron and Harry both laughed. She would have paid all her money to have seen twelve-year-old Natalie do that. Natalie looked sweet and innocent, but she was definitely far from it. Bryt had always been fond of Natalie. There was something familiar about her that Bryt couldn't quite put her finger on, but it was a good type of familiarity.

"Though they told me they'd remember this whenever we tried to buy one of their Skiving Snackboxes," Mike said, sounding disappointed as he glanced at Natalie, who shrugged.

"Cheer up, Mikey," she said—Mike rolled his eyes at the nickname, "You can always get someone to go buy some for you." Natalie began grinning mischievously. "Dennis would do anything you asked."

Mike groaned as Natalie brought up Dennis Creevey—younger brother to Colin Creevey, and both of whom had a stalker-like obsession with Harry. Dennis was in Mike's year, and was often asking Mike about Harry—since Mike was Bryt's brother, and Bryt was friends with Harry—it got to the point that Mike had a habit of diving behind the nearest thing to hide whenever Dennis entered the common room.

"Come on, we should get started on homework," Mike said, taking Natalie by the arm and pulling her off.

"It is not excellent!"

Bryt looked over at Hermione's shouting to see her friend gripping a clipboard and a bag of Fred and George's Fainting Fancies as she stared at Lee and the twins. She looked beside herself with anger, despite the fact that the first years all seemed to be fine. They were all awake now, and some of them had apparently even been amused by it. But now they were staring at Hermione in horror.

"You can't do this, what if you made one of them really ill?" Hermione snapped.

"We're not going to make them ill, we've already tested them all on ourselves," Fred replied angrily, "This is just to see if everyone reacts the same—"

"If you don't stop doing it, I'm going to—"

"Put us in detention?" Fred asked, smirking at Hermione.

"Make us write lines?" George added with a smirk of his own.

People around them started laughing and Bryt sighed, feeling sorry for Hermione. She knew it couldn't be easy trying to keep Fred and George under control—she had enough experience from that with living around Sofí.

"No," Hermione said, pulling herself up to full height, "But I will write to your mother."

The smiles quickly disappeared from the twins' faces, both of them staring at Hermione with horrified expressions.

"You wouldn't," George said.

"Oh yes, I would," Hermione shot back, "I can't stop you eating the stupid things yourselves, but you're not giving them to first years."

Hermione shoved the clipboard and bag back into Fred's hands and turned, heading back over to Bryt and the others, sitting down again and glaring at Ron.

"Thanks for your support," she snapped.

"You handled it fine by yourself," Ron replied meekly.

Hermione shot him another glare before turning to look at where her friends had their parchment out, and sighed.

"Oh, it's no good, I can't concentrate now," she said, "I'm going to bed."

Hermione reached into her bag then and pulled out two of the hats that she had made over the summer, placing them near the fireplace and covering them with parchment and quills. Bryt made a face, but didn't say anything. She waited until Hermione had left up the stairway before leaning over and uncovering the hats. When she leaned back, she noticed both Harry and Ron were staring at her with confused expressions.

"Don't start thinking I'm starting to go against SPEW," Bryt said, straightening herself up, "I'm not. House elves deserve freedom, and I know they'll want it if they just know they have the option. Dobby'll show them that. But I'm not blind, I saw what happened with Winky last year when it was forced on her. That made me realize forcing freedom isn't going to help. House elves should _choose_ to be free, not be forced or tricked into it. Besides, that's the whole point of freedom, right? The ability to choose for yourself."

Bryt turned back to her essay, picking up her quill again, not wanting to talk about house elves more. She already felt bad enough not stating her argument with Hermione—not after the first time back at Grimmauld Place. Harry sat for a second, then said he was going to head to bed, too, which left Ron and Bryt by themselves to work on the Potions essay.

"So," Ron said, picking up his own quill and looking at Bryt, "What are the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making?"

Bryt sighed.

"I'll check your essay when you're done," she said, "But I'm not doing it for you."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm just asking for help."

Bryt raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend. Ron stared back defiantly.

"I'm not doing the essay for you, Ron."

"Why is it whenever Hermione's not around, you start acting like her?"

"I do not," Bryt said, rolling her eyes, "I've never done your work for you."

"Come on, you don't want me to fail Potions, do you?"

Bryt sighed, though she was grinning. She had this argument with Ron nearly every time a big assignment came up with Potions. Sometimes she gave in, sometimes she didn't.

"Just this once," Bryt said, "And only because we have a lot more homework piled up with other classes. I'm still not writing this for you, though."

Bryt scooted herself closer to Ron, beginning to help him through the essay.

**xxxxx**

The next morning, Bryt was glad to have at least gotten one of her essays out of the way—she and Ron had been up to nearly midnight working on Snape's essay, and both decided to go to bed once they were finished. Hermione seemed pleased about the fact that Bryt and Ron had made an effort in their assignments—though Bryt was careful not to mention how much she helped Ron on his.

Classes were just as rough as the day before—even in Charms. Flitwick gave them a speech about how they performed in their OWLS would shape the careers they could choose—and that they should begin thinking about their careers soon—before assigning them a large amount of homework and started them reviewing Summoning Charms.

Following that was possibly Bryt's worst subject—Transfiguration. She never did well in that class, and always managed to just scrape by. McGonagall didn't help boost Bryt's confidence, either, as she gave her own speech on the importance of their fifth year.

"You cannot pass an OWL," McGonagall informed them, "Without serious application, practice, and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work."

_'I doubt that,'_ Bryt thought, sighing. She tried and tried all the time and never did well in this class.

"Yes, even you two, Longbottom, Miss Watkins," McGonagall said sharply. Bryt straightened in her seat slightly. She hadn't realized McGonagall saw her reaction.

"There's nothing wrong with your work except a lack of confidence," McGonagall went on—_'A lot more than that with me,' _Bryt thought—as she looked around the room, "So today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on your OWL."

McGonagall wasn't lying about the Vanishing Spell. After the entire double-period, Hermione was the only one who had managed to Vanish her snail—thus she was the only one who didn't have homework in that class.

Bryt and her friends ate lunch quickly and spent the rest of their lunch break in the library, trying to put more of a dent in their homework pile before it was time for Care of Magical Creatures.

What had once been Bryt's favorite class was now one she wasn't looking forward to. Not only was Hagrid not at Hogwarts—meaning they were being taught by the woman Grubbly-Plank—but they still had to share this class with Slytherins.

Today wasn't much different. The Slytherins were already there, grouped around Malfoy and laughing over some joke—obviously about Harry, considering the looks they gave the Gryffindors as they approached.

"Everyone here?" Grubbly-Plank asked, looking around the group, "Let's crack on then—who can tell me what these things are called?"

Bryt raised her hand quickly when she looked at the pile of twig-like creatures. Care of Magical Creatures was the one class where Bryt could 'be a bit of a show off', as Ron called it. It was her best class aside from Potions, but with a teacher like Snape, Bryt didn't get a chance to show her talent for it in that classroom.

"Miss Watkins?"

"They're bowtruckles," Bryt said, "They mostly live in wand-trees in western England and southern Germany."

"Five points for Gryffindor," Grubbly-Plank said with a nod, "Yes, these are bowtruckles and, as Miss Watkins rightfully says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?"

"Insects, mostly," Bryt answered, "Such as wood lice."

"Good girl, take another five points," Grubbly-Plank said, "So, whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree which a bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of wood lice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered, they will gorge out human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So, if you'd like to gather closer, take a few wood lice and a bowtruckle—I have enough here for one between three—you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labeled by the end of the lesson."

Bryt went over and gently picked up one of the bowtruckles, moving to an area off to the side with Hermione and Ron while Harry hung back to ask Grubbly-Plank something. It wasn't long before Harry was back with them, looking worried. He leaned closer to them, telling them in a whisper that Malfoy implied that something might have happened to Hagrid.

"Dumbledore would know if that happened," Hermione said, sounding sure of herself, but Bryt wasn't convinced, "It's just playing into Malfoy's hands to look worried, it tells him we don't know exactly what's going on. We've got to ignore him, Harry."

"Easier said than done," Bryt hissed, glaring over at Malfoy.

"Bryt, you never have any trouble brushing off what anyone says about you. Can't you just apply that to others?"

"There's a huge difference in insulting me and insulting my friends and family."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but Malfoy had spoken up from his group nearby, talking loudly and obviously hoping for the entire class to hear him.

"Father was talking to the Minister just a couple of days ago, you know," Malfoy said, "And it sounds as though the Ministry's really determined to crack down on substandard teaching in this place. So even if that overgrown moron does show up again, he'll probably be sent packing straight away."

"That's it," Bryt hissed, starting to stand up, but Ron jerked her back down. Bryt glared at him, fighting hard to not tighten her grip with the bowtruckle in her hands.

"He needs a good ass-kickin' and y'know it," Bryt whispered sharply.

"Wait until after class."

"Ron! You're a _prefect_!" Hermione hissed, then turned to Bryt, "You can't do anything! We can't cause trouble, especially not with Malfoy. He's a prefect too, remember? He can make life very difficult for you if you try anything."

"Wow, I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult life?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes.

Bryt snorted as Ron laughed, her anger ebbing away slightly. Though Bryt was still glad when Care of Magical Creatures was over and they could get away from the Slytherins.

When they reached the greenhouse for Herbology, they were met by the fourth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. Ginny waved towards them with a bright grin as she passed, though Luna Lovegood made her way over to them when she noticed them.

"I believe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, and I believe you fought him and escaped from him," she rushed out in one breath.

"Er—right," Harry said, looking surprised. Parvati and Lavender were giggling nearby, though Bryt seemed to think it had more to do with Luna's appearance—the girl had her hair in a sloppy bun with her wand strung through it to hold it there, seemed unconcerned with the dirt on her face, and was wearing her butterbeer cork necklace and a pair of radishes for earrings.

"You can laugh!" Luna said loudly, turning to them, "But people used to believe there were no such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!"

"Well, they were right, weren't they?" Hermione asked, "There _weren't_ any such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

Luna looked extremely offended, glaring at Hermione before turning and heading off towards the castle. Half the Gryffindors were laughing now and Bryt glared over at them.

"D'you mind not offending the only people who believe me?" Harry asked as they entered the greenhouse.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Harry, you can do better than _her_," Hermione said sharply, "Ginny's told me all about her, apparently she'll only believe in things as long as there's no proof at all. Well, I wouldn't expect anything else from someone whose father runs _The Quibbler_."

"Just because she's a bit weird doesn't mean she isn't loyal," Bryt shot back, "I mean, look at Sofí or Astrid. Would you turn down votes of confidence from them simply because they act crazy at times?"

Bryt didn't know exactly why she was defending Luna—she barely even knew the girl. But there was something endearing about her quirky nature that already made Bryt a bit fond of her. She wasn't completely sure why. Maybe she was just drawn towards crazy people. That would explain her lasting friendship with Sofí, despite how the girl often got on her nerves.

Before Hermione could reply, however, Ernie Macmillan had come over to them.

"I want you to know, Potter, that it's not only the weirdos who support you," he said loudly, obviously wanting the others to hear, "I personally believe you one hundred percent. My family have always stood firm behind Dumbledore, and so do I."

"Er—thanks very much, Ernie," Harry said, looking surprised and pleased. At least Ernie had succeeded in getting the others to stop laughing.

Herbology passed like most all their classes so far—starting with a lecture on the importance of their OWLs, and ending with a large load of homework. Bryt's stomach was growling as they made their way to dinner, and she was looking forward to eating, then heading down to the pitch for some Quidditch practice with Ron.

They were stopped on their way to the Great Hall by Angelina, who was sorely upset that Harry was in detention and wouldn't be able to attend the Keeper tryouts on Friday, and demanded he apologize to Umbridge and try to get out of his Friday detention.

"You know what?" Harry asked irritably after Angelina left and they made their way to the Gryffindor table, "I think we'd better check with Puddlemere United and see whether Oliver Wood's been killed during a training session, because she seems to be channeling his spirit."

"What d'you reckon the odds are of Umbridge letting you off on Friday?" Ron asked when they sat down for dinner.

"Less than zero," Harry replied simply, "Better try, though, hadn't I? I'll offer to do two more detentions or something, I dunno...I hope she doesn't keep me too long this evening. You realize we've got to write three essays—well, two for you two," he added, looking at Bryt and Ron, "Practice Vanishing Spells for McGonagall, work out a countercharm for Flitwick, and start that stupid dream diary for Trelawney?"

Ron glanced up to the ceiling and gave a groan.

"_And_ it looks like it's going to rain," he said. Bryt looked up and groaned herself as she realized he was right. She was really looking forward to some flying with Ron.

"What's that got to do with our homework?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Ron and Bryt chorused. Harry raised an eyebrow at them and Hermione sighed, shaking her head.

Bryt thought it was a bit idiotic that Ron wanted to keep him trying out for Keeper between him and her for now, but she wasn't going to argue the issue—after all, she was extremely grateful that Ron had agreed not to tell Harry about Bryt's situation with Wormtail for the moment. Keeping something as simple as practicing for Quidditch was the least she could do for him.

After they ate, Hermione said she was going to the library to work on her Ancient Runes homework and Harry headed off for his detention with Umbridge. Bryt and Ron made their way to the Gryffindor common room to drop off their bags in their dormitories, then got their brooms to head out to the pitch—luckily, the rain was holding off, which meant they'd get a few hours' of practice before it started getting dark.

"Thanks again for agreeing to help me," Ron said as they started through the castle, their brooms over their shoulders.

"You don't need to thank me," Bryt said, grinning up at him, "I wouldn't be much of a girlfriend—or friend at all—if I didn't help, right?"

Ron just grinned back, though Bryt could tell he was nervous. She looped her free arm through his as they walked.

"Don't worry so much, I'm sure you'll be great," she said, "Come on, let's get down to the pitch and just have some fun."

"Right," Ron said with a nod, though he still looked nervous.

_'Hopefully that'll pass if he makes the team,'_ Bryt thought, though she hoped he did. Ron needed something like this, to be a part of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Not much happened for Ron for him to stand out and show he was good at something—being the Gryffindor Keeper would be great for him.

"Hermione's going to kill us if she finds out we skipped homework for this," Bryt said.

"We have our Potions essay done, I think we can take an afternoon off," Ron replied and Bryt laughed.

"I don't think she'd agree," she said, "But we need this. If we spend all our time cooped up doing homework, we'll go mad."

Ron nodded in agreement as they started across the Hogwarts grounds and Bryt saw the Quidditch pitch coming into view. She grinned to herself, eager to get on her broom and do some flying. She was right. After the past two days they'd had, they needed some type of stress relief. She'd just have to find a way to make Hermione understand later.

"Besides, if they ask, we can just say we were on a date," Bryt added, "Perfectly believable excuse."

"Works for me," Ron replied as they reached the pitch, "I'll go get the Quaffle."

Bryt nodded as she watched him head off, grinning. Telling others they were out here on a date would technically be true—in a way. They were out here on their own, after all. It was just their idea of a 'date' involved Quidditch practice, not snogging in dark classrooms.

_'Not that I wouldn't mind some snogging,'_ Bryt thought, pulling off her headband and tying it around her wrist so she wouldn't lose it. Maybe that could come later. For now, however, she needed to hold her promise to help Ron practice for the Keeper tryouts. With any luck, all this work would pay off for him on Friday.


	15. Detention News and New Keeper

Bryt and Ron had practiced until they could no longer see on the pitch and were so tired that by the time they got up to the Gryffindor common room, neither were in the mood for homework. In fact, they simply gave each other a quick good night and went up to bed.

They paid for their time the next day as they tried to rush through fake dreams for their dream diaries for Divination. Harry was with them, and Bryt learned that Umbridge was making Harry write lines—a perfectly harmless detention, which surprised Bryt considering the impression she had of Umbridge so far. All lines did was give someone a cramped hand. It didn't do much to stop someone from getting into trouble again—especially when it was for something like telling others the truth.

Though Angelina seemed to think Harry being in detention was the worst thing that could happen. She caught Harry on the way to dinner that afternoon, claiming he wasn't sporting enough support to his team for not being able to come to the tryouts that Friday.

"I'm in detention!" Harry shouted after her as Angelina left, "D'you think I'd rather be stuck in a room with that old toad or playing Quidditch?"

"At least it's only lines," Hermione said as they sat down at the Gryffindor table, "It's not as if it's a dreadful punishment, really."

"Not one that'd keep me from telling people the truth," Bryt said as she began piling food on her and Ron's plates, "I mean, how does she expect to change anything just by giving Harry lines? Worst he'll get is a cramped hand. Of course, we're already going to end up with that thanks to all the homework we have."

"Well, why didn't you do any last night?" Hermione asked, "You did a great start with the Potions essay. What were you up to?"

Bryt and Ron glanced at each other. They had decided to go with the excuse they were on a date, but they just now realized that they didn't really decide on exactly what they were _doing_ on that date.

Luckily, they didn't need to answer as Hermione gave an annoyed sigh.

"It's great you two are together," she said, "But you shouldn't put off your homework. Maybe you should take it with you and have a study session."

"We're not you, Hermione," Bryt said, seizing the opportunity, "Our idea of a date doesn't include homework."

Hermione glared at them, and Bryt focused her gaze to her food. Again, she felt guilty about not telling Hermione what she was really doing—but she had promised Ron. She wasn't going to break that promise. After all, the truth would come out on Friday. It wasn't like she was going to be keeping a secret the entire school year—which she had actually done for Hermione during their third year after Bryt found out Hermione was using a time turner to get through all her classes.

_'Just two more days and this'll be over,'_ Bryt thought. She could survive two days.

**xxxxx**

Once again, Bryt and Ron practiced until it was too dark to see that night, but instead of going straight to bed, they decided to heed Hermione's advice and stayed up until nearly midnight struggling through their Transfiguration homework. They both knew they wouldn't do well with the homework without Hermione, but after their exchange during dinner, they knew better than to ask for help.

Thursday came and went with another long day of classes followed by another successful practice with Ron. Though the long days and late nights were starting to take their toll on Bryt. As she and Ron made their way back towards the Gryffindor common room, Bryt was eager to crawl into bed and not move again until morning.

About halfway to the tower, however, Ron suddenly grabbed Bryt by the arm and pulled her behind a nearby statue.

"What the he—" Bryt started, but Ron clamped his hand over her mouth. Bryt glared at him, about to yank his hand away, but stopped herself when she heard Fred and George's voices further up the hallway. Bryt was suddenly grateful Ron had noticed them and pulled her into hiding. She didn't want to think about the teasing they'd have to endure if Fred and George caught them—or how they'd explain having their brooms with them.

Once Fred and George's voices faded away, Bryt and Ron glanced around the sides of the statue, wanting to make sure the twins were gone before they came out of their hiding place.

"Ron? Bryt?"

The two spun around, both hiding their brooms behind them as they saw Harry was behind them.

"What're you two doing?" Harry asked, confused. Bryt and Ron exchanged a glance. Harry seemed to guess along the same lines as Hermione the day before as he suddenly looked embarrassed.

Bryt sighed.

"Ron, maybe we should just tell him," she said, "I mean, he'll find out soon enough anyway."

Ron looked over at Bryt, obviously thinking it over, then finally sighed.

"You're right," he said, "I probably shouldn't have kept it a secret anyway." Ron turned from Bryt, looking over at Harry, his face going red. Bryt reached over and squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"Just don't laugh, okay?" Ron asked defensively, then speaking in a rush, trying to get it all out in one breath, "I thought I'd try out for Gryffindor Keeper now that I've got a decent broom. There. Go on. Laugh."

Harry stared at them, but suddenly started grinning, which didn't surprise Bryt. She had thought Ron was being a bit thick about not wanting to tell the others about him trying out.

"I'm not laughing," Harry said, "It's a brilliant idea! It'd be really cool if you get on the team!"

"What I've been telling him," Bryt said with a grin of her own, glancing sideways at Ron, "He doesn't like to listen sometimes, though. At least he understands he's a pretty good Keeper."

"So this is what you two've been sneaking around about the past couple of days?" Harry asked and Bryt laughed slightly.

"Well, yeah," she said, "I've been helping him practice. It'd be pretty hard to train for Keeper by yourself."

"I don't know how much help it'll be, though," Ron said, "I know Fred and George'll laugh themselves stupid when I turn up at tryouts."

"Don't let that bother you," Bryt said, looping an arm around Ron's and leaning against him as she rested her broom across her shoulder, "You'll be fine."

"Are you planning to try out, too?" Harry asked, looking at Bryt as they started up the hallway. Bryt laughed.

"No," she said, "Keeper's definitely not for me, and I think that'd have caused a few problems in training for Ron." Bryt paused for a moment. "Though I've been thinking about trying out for Beater next year. You know, once Fred and George have left."

"Well, if your swing with a bat's anything like how hard you hit," Ron said with a smirk, "You'll be perfect for it."

"Very funny," Bryt rolled her eyes, then suddenly caught sight of the back of Harry's hand as he was obviously trying to hide his own smirk, "Harry, what happened to your hand?"

"It's nothing," Harry said quickly as they reached the Fat Lady's portrait, "It's just a cut."

Though as he tried to hide his hand, Bryt grabbed hold of his wrist and she and Ron both leaned over. Bryt felt a cold wave of nausea as she realized what it was. Carved across the back of Harry's hand, in his own handwriting, were the words "I must not tell lies."

It wasn't hard to figure out who was behind this.

"I thought you said she was giving you lines?" Ron asked, looking as sick as Bryt felt and obviously had come to the same conclusion as she had.

Harry looked at them for a moment, then sighed.

"Technically, she has," Harry said, "It's just...not normal lines. She gave me this odd quill with no ink, and whenever I wrote the line, it showed up on my hand."

Bryt stared in horror, her hands tightening into fists. She now knew why Umbridge had given Harry a week of lines for telling the truth. She wanted to make the words scar permanently into Harry's hand.

"That sadistic bitch," Bryt hissed, wanting nothing more than to punch the toad-faced woman, or to force her to use her own quill. Bryt wasn't sure which one would be more satisfying.

"You have to go to McGonagall," Ron said, "Say something!"

"No. I'm not giving her the satisfaction of knowing she's got me."

"Yer an idiot," Bryt snapped, "She's _torturin'_ you, y'really gonna _not_ go to a teacher 'bout that?"

"If I go to anyone, it'll just tell her I'm weak," Harry said, "I'm not giving in to her."

Bryt opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted by the Fat Lady, who was finally tired of waiting on them to finish their conversation and wanted them to give the password and go inside already. Though once they were in the common room, Harry had said he was tired and wanted to go to bed, heading upstairs without a word. Bryt looked over at Ron, who looked as worried as she did.

"Think we should tell a teacher for him?" Bryt asked.

"That wouldn't help anything," Ron replied, "I'll try to talk to him, maybe to convince him to at least go to Dumbledore."

Bryt nodded.

"I'll let Hermione know about this and see what she thinks," she said, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss Ron goodnight. "See you in the morning."

Ron nodded and headed up the stairs to the boys' dormitory and Bryt turned, heading up to her own. Hermione was still awake, sitting in her bed and knitting more hats for the house elves. Bryt grinned a little, thinking about how the hats had been disappearing quickly. It seemed her theory was right—the house elves were actually wanting freedom.

Bryt changed quickly into her pajamas before glancing to make sure Lavender and Parvati were actually asleep before sitting on the edge of Hermione's bed and explaining in a whisper about Harry's detentions with Umbridge.

"He has to go to Dumbledore!" Hermione whispered, horrified, "To _someone_! He can't let Umbridge get away with this!"

"We were telling him that," Bryt replied, "But he doesn't want to 'let Umbridge win' by telling anyone..." Bryt looked down at her bracelet on her wrist, running her fingers along the stones, "At first I was against it, but maybe he's right..."

"Bryt, she's _torturing_ him!"

"I know," Bryt said, looking up, "But it's a bit like last year, isn't it? True, there was no actual torture, just taunting and stuff, but we all kept saying it was best to ignore it. Running to a teacher was just telling the people who were causing it that we were letting it get to us. Harry's probably thinking the same thing with Umbridge now."

"That was different," Hermione said sharply.

"What about if you were in his shoes?" Bryt asked, "What if you were in that detention, for telling the _truth_, and were being punished for it? Would you go tell a teacher about what was happening? Let the teacher punishing you know they were getting to you?"

"There's a huge difference than a punishment and torture, Bryt!"

"I _know_," Bryt said with a sigh, closing her eyes and running a hand through her hair, "I just...Now thinking about it, I'm not sure I'd be doing anything different if I was in those detentions..."

"You're just as bad as they are," Hermione said with an irritated sigh, "I always thought it was just guys who went through letting themselves go through that type of trouble and not tell anyone just because of stubborn pride. Too stubborn to admit they need help. But you're just as bad."

"No, it's being strong-willed and there's nothing wrong with that," Bryt said, offended. It wasn't 'stubborn pride'. She didn't know what she was going to do to get Hermione to understand that. She doubted Hermione ever would.

"I'm going on to bed," Bryt said, getting up and heading to her own bed. She pulled her curtains closed around her, not wanting to argue with Hermione any longer. She paused long enough to quickly write down about her practice with Ron and what Harry had told her about Umbridge's detentions, then she rolled over onto her side to try and get some sleep.

**xxxxx**

As the next day went on, Bryt could tell Ron was becoming more and more nervous as the Quidditch tryouts got closer. Bryt did her best to ease his nerves, reassuring him that he'd be fine, but it didn't seem to help much. Bryt still kept trying, though, all the way down to the Quidditch pitch at six for the tryouts to start.

"Don't worry, you'll be great," Bryt said as they reached the pitch, "I know you'll make it."

Ron just nodded, looking almost green. Bryt leaned up, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as she slid her bracelet off her wrist and held it up, smirking a little.

"Want to hang on to it for luck?" she asked teasingly.

Ron looked horrified at the idea of wearing Bryt's bracelet, and shoved her hand down.

"Are you _mental_?" he asked. Bryt shrugged.

"Well, considering you tell me that I am on a near-weekly basis..." Bryt let herself trail off, slipping her bracelet back on as she grinned at Ron, "It was just an offer. You'll be fine. Now get out there."

Ron nodded, glancing at the pitch before heading off, clutching his broom in a vice grip. Bryt watched him go, silently praying that he'd do fine, then headed up into the stands, finding a good seat.

It wasn't long before others began taking seats around her. Friends of those trying out or people just curious about who'd be the new Keeper, most likely. Bryt leaned over the edge of the stands and stared down at the half-dozen people who're waiting for their tryouts. It wasn't hard at all to pick out Ron among the group simply because of his flaming red hair.

Bryt pulled her bracelet off her wrist and gripped it between her hands as she waited for the tryouts to begin. All she could do now was hope that Ron'd do better than the others trying out.

Angelina started off the tryouts with a few laps around the pitch and Bryt started to worry more. It was obvious that he wasn't the best flyer of the group, but at least he definitely wasn't the worst. He at least managed to be among the top three, if only just barely.

Angelina had the Keeper hopefuls try out one by one, guarding the goal posts while trying to dodge Bludgers. The first girl was dreadful—she let in well over half of the goals she was trying to stop and barely dodged a couple of Bludgers with not even an inch to spare. Bryt wondered if the girl had ever played any type of Quidditch before, even in practice games with friends.

To Bryt's immense relief, Ron was one of the best who tried out—no one had a perfect record, but Ron was one of the few who came close. He managed to dodge all the Bludgers, and saved all but two goals. Though he wasn't the only one who did great—all Bryt could do, as the final person finished their tryout, was hope that Angelina would choose Ron over the others.

_'Maybe Fred and George being on the team will help his chances,'_ Bryt thought, _'And even Harry. They already get along all right with Ron, maybe that'll play in.'_

Bryt watched everyone go into the changing room and she decided to head down with the others, obviously planning to hover at the door for their friends to find out who made Keeper. Bryt wasn't sure how long they would have to wait—she didn't know if Angelina would talk to the ones trying out together, or talk with them one at a time, to give the results.

It seemed as if Angelina talked with them all at once because they didn't have to wait too long before the changing room door opened and everyone started filing out, most of them looking disappointed, angry, or surprised. Ron was one of the ones who came out looking surprised, and also seeming in a bit of a daze. Bryt hurried over to him, her heart pounding slightly. She wasn't sure if she should take Ron's surprise in a good or bad way.

"How'd it go?" Bryt asked cautiously, "I mean, you were great out there. So what's the verdict?"

"I'm in," Ron said, as if he couldn't believe his own words, then slowly, he started to grin, "I did it! I'm in!"

Bryt let out a laugh of relief, throwing her arms around Ron in a hug, which Ron replied to by lifting Bryt off her feet—not a hard achievement considering their very noticeable height difference.

"Ron, that's great!" Bryt said once her feet were back on the ground and she grinned up at Ron, her arms still around him, "I knew you'd get in!"

"Yeah, well," Ron said with an awkward grin, "You helped a lot."

"You put it all to use, though," Bryt said, "I'm so proud of you."

Ron's awkward grin grew some.

"Even Fred and George seemed pleased about this," he said, "They were talking about nicking some butterbeers to celebrate."

"Then we shouldn't keep them waiting," Bryt said, looping her arms around Ron's, "Come on, I'm sure everyone's eagerly waiting to congratulate their new Keeper."

"It's still a bit hard to believe," Ron said as they started for the castle, "I'm actually in. I'm the new Keeper."

"I told you that you'd make it," Bryt said, "And didn't even need my lucky bracelet to help."

"Bryt, you're mental," Ron said with a sigh, shaking his head.

"So you keep telling me," Bryt replied, feeling happier than she'd been all week. For the first time since the school year started, something good was happening. Something great. Bryt doubted there was anything that could ruin her mood right now.


	16. Bad News

Like Ron had said, Fred and George had gotten butterbeers for them by the time they were back to the common room. Though the 'celebration' was more limited to the Gryffindor Quidditch Team and Bryt. Hermione had seemed pleased when they told her Ron made the team, but said she'd rather work on her homework than join in the celebration. Bryt and Ron didn't mind, talking excitedly with each other about the upcoming Quidditch season.

It wasn't long after that when Harry got back from his final detention with Umbridge. Bryt grinned, heading over with Ron, both of them sloshing some of their butterbeer.

"Harry, I did it!" Ron said excitedly, "I'm in! I'm Keeper!"

"Just like I kept telling him," Bryt laughed.

"What?" Harry asked, seeming distracted, then seemed to regain himself, "Oh, brilliant!"

Bryt eyed her friend curiously, but then passed it off as an aftermath of his detention with Umbridge.

"It _is_ great," Bryt said as Ron handed Harry a butterbeer, "Hermione seemed happy about it, too." Bryt looked towards the table where Hermione was sitting and realized her friend had fallen asleep sitting up, "Before she went all 'lights out' over there."

"Let her sleep," George said quickly from nearby. Bryt glanced over at him and had a sneaking suspicion that Fred and George had been testing their Skiving Snackboxes again—something that seemed to be proved right as she noticed a couple of first years who looked like they had just recovered from nosebleeds.

"Come here, Ron, and see if Oliver's old robes fit you," Katie called from nearby, "We can take his name off and put yours on instead."

"Go on," Bryt told her boyfriend with a grin. Ron nodded and started off towards Katie while Angelina came over.

"Sorry if I was a bit short with you earlier, Potter," Angelina said, "It's stressful, this managing lark, you know, I'm starting to think I was a bit hard on Wood sometimes."

Harry just gave an awkward shrug, his way of saying 'no harm, no foul'. Bryt took a sip of her own butterbeer a she glanced over towards where Ron was trying on the Quidditch robes.

"Look, I know he's your best mate," Angelina went on, speaking more to Harry than to both him and Bryt, "But he's not fabulous. I think with a bit of training he'll be all right, though. He comes from a family of good Quidditch players. I'm banking on him turning out to have a bit more talent than he showed today, to be honest. Vicky Frobisher and Geoffrey Hooper both flew better this evening, but Hooper's a real whiner, he's always moaning about something or other, and Vicky's involved in all sorts of societies, she admitted herself that if training clashed with her Charm Club she'd put Charms first. Anyway, we're having a practice session at two o'clock tomorrow, so just make sure you're there this time. And do me a favor and help Ron as much as you can, okay?"

"She's making it sound like Ron was the worst out there," Bryt said irritably as Angelina left, "Sure, he wasn't the _best_, but Ron's still good. He got on the team for talent, not out of pity and not wanting that Frobisher or Hooper."

"Listen, I need to tell you and Hermione something," Harry whispered and Bryt stared at him with a worried expression. Did something happen while he was in detention with Umbridge? Something more than her torture? And why was it so urgent it couldn't wait for Ron to finish trying on the Quidditch robes?

Bryt and Harry made their way over to where Hermione was and Bryt threw herself down in an armchair, spilling more of her butterbeer, though she ignored it. Hermione jerked upright, blinking at them.

"Oh, it's you two," Hermione said in relief, as if it were less embarrassing to be caught sleeping by her friends, "Good about Ron, isn't it? I'm just so—so—" Hermione let out a yawn, "—tired. I was up until one o'clock making more hats. They're disappearing like mad!"

"I've tried helping, you know," Bryt said.

"Which usually ends up in less hats being made because we keep having to fix it when you hopelessly tangle the wool."

Bryt shrugged and looked back over at Harry.

"Anyway, what'd you want to tell us, Harry?" she asked.

Harry leaned forward in his chair and Bryt and Hermione leaned forward in return so they could hear better as Harry started recounting his last detention in a whisper. Apparently, when Umbridge had touched him to check his hand, the scar on his forehead had started hurting again.

"You're worried You-Know-Who's controlling her like he controlled Quirrell?" Hermione asked slowly, looking confused. Bryt was horrified. Umbridge was bad enough just being some woman who the Ministry was forcing on them and torturing them. Knowing she was working with Voldemort made things a lot worse.

"Well," Harry said quietly, "It's a possibility, isn't it?"

Bryt gripped her bracelet between her hands, running her thumbs over the stones as she thought about something Harry seemed to be overlooking.

"How, though?" Bryt asked weakly, "I mean, Voldemort—" she ignored Hermione's wince, "—has a body again. How can he be possessing Umbridge if he has a body now? Umbridge is cruel, yes, but that doesn't automatically mean she's working with Voldemort."

"He could have her under the Imperious Curse, I suppose," Hermione said slowly and Bryt shuddered at the thought of how that curse made her feel so willing to do anything.

"If she was, she'd probably have started fighting it by now," Bryt said, "I mean, look at both of the Crouches last year. Besides, there'd have to be someone nearby to keep using the curse when it started to wear off...Umbridge is just naturally twisted."

"And last year your scar hurt when nobody was touching you," Hermione said, looking back to Harry, "And didn't Dumbledore say it had to do with what You-Know-Who was feeling at the time? I mean, maybe this hasn't got anything to do with Umbridge at all, maybe it's just coincidence it happened while you were with her?"

"She's evil," Harry replied as if it were an answer, "Twisted, like Bryt said."

"She's horrible, yes, but...Harry, I think you ought to tell Dumbledore your scar hurt."

"I'm not bothering him with this," Harry said shortly, "Like you said, it's not a big deal. It's been hurting on and off all summer—it was just a bit worse tonight, that's all—"

"This isn't about Umbridge making you scar words into the back of your hand, Harry," Bryt said, "This is about your scar hurting—something connected with _Voldemort_. I'm betting Dumbledore will want to know."

"Yeah," Harry said shortly, That's the only bit of me Dumbledore cares about, isn't it, my scar?"

"That's not true!" Bryt and Hermione chorused. Dumbledore obviously cared a lot for all his students—particularly Harry. Bryt was sure that Dumbledore cared a lot more than just Harry's scar.

"I think I'll write Sirius about it, see what he thinks—"

"Harry, you can't put something like that in a letter!" Hermione said, "Don't you remember? Moody told us to be careful what we put in writing! We just can't guarantee owls aren't being intercepted anymore!"

"Well, what about your book with Julio?" Harry asked, "Maybe they can somehow get word to Bryt's parents, and they—"

"No," Bryt cut in sharply, knowing where Harry was going with this. Both Hermione and Harry looked over at her in surprise. Bryt straightened herself up. "You both know my mom's starting to hate the magical world. Any mention of it sends her into a fit of rage. And, truthfully, I don't want to get my family involved in this when they don't have to be."

"All right, I won't tell him, then!" Harry snapped, "I'm going to bed. Tell Ron for me, will you?"

"Oh, no, if you're going to bed that means I can go without being rude," Hermione said, "I'm exhausted and I want to make some more hats tomorrow. Listen, you can help me if you like, it's quite fun, and maybe you'll be better than Bryt."

Harry looked almost horrified at the idea.

"Er...no, I don't think I will, thanks," he said, "Er—not tomorrow, I've got a lot of homework to do...Bryt, can you tell Ron?"

"Yeah," Bryt said with a nod, looking over towards her boyfriend, "I'll tell him."

Harry nodded and headed to the boys' dormitories and Hermione left shortly after for the girls'. Bryt sighed and leaned back in her chair, staring at the fire, wondering how her parents were doing and if Mr. Weasley was keeping his promise to keep an eye on them. For the first time in the four years Bryt had known she was a witch, she longed to be home rather than at Hogwarts. She wanted to help do whatever was needed to get her mother comfortable with the magical world again.

_'Or was she ever comfortable with it?'_ Bryt thought with a twinge of guilt. Now that she thought back on it, nearly any time Bryt asked about staying with her friends over the summer, or talked about the magical world, her mother had seemed happy enough—but now she started to wonder if it was a front. There were those times when her mother seemed very annoyed by the mention of Bryt's classes, even more over the last year now that her brothers were at Hogwarts as well.

Did Mrs. Watkins think her children preferred the magical world over their own family? The idea was ridiculous, but Bryt couldn't get it out of her mind. She pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around her legs and gripped her bracelet tighter in her hands as she stared at the fire. Bryt's family was one of the most important things in her life. She had thought her mother would know that. But now she wasn't so sure.

_'I have a lot to make up for when Christmas comes,'_ Bryt thought weakly. She just hoped it wasn't too late to put it straight that no amount of magic in the world was going to replace her family.

"Bryt? You okay?"

Bryt looked up to see Ron pulling an armchair closer to her, sitting down and giving her a concerned look.

"Just...thinking," Bryt said with a sigh. The type of family issues weren't exactly something Ron would understand. His entire family was magical—there was no way he would be able to relate to how Bryt was torn over the fact that magic was something she was—something she couldn't just turn off and ignore—and that her mother might fear—or even hate—that very thing. She couldn't even relate to Harry about this. Sure, the Dursleys hated the magical world but Harry had grown up with the hate. It hadn't just suddenly appeared in the middle of a family he loved. Bryt shook her head, staring down at her bracelet. She needed to get away from this trail of thought before Ron started asking about it.

Bryt looked over at her boyfriend, trying to force the thoughts back as she quickly told Ron in a whisper about Harry's experience during detention.

"He needs to go to Dumbledore," Ron said at once, "He'll want to know Harry's scar is hurting—it has to do with You-Know-Who, right?"

"Harry says he doesn't want to 'bother Dumbledore' with this," Bryt said, rolling her eyes, "I can understand not telling Dumbledore about the detentions, but keeping something as important as this from him? Harry's acting like his scar hurting is no big deal...But look how our first year turned out—and last year. _Something_ is going on, he can't just ignore this."

"Why doesn't he want to go to Dumbledore?" Ron asked.

"I think he's got it in his head that Dumbledore doesn't really care much about him," Bryt said quietly, then on Ron's look, "We both know he's wrong, but still...And I think all of this—" Bryt waved a hand around her, though for nothing more than show, "—is getting to him more than he wants to admit. I think it's bothering him that people don't believe him about what happened last summer. Then with Umbridge woman shows up and all this Ministry interference..." Bryt trailed off with a sigh.

"Maybe I should go try to talk to him," Ron said and Bryt shook her head.

"He's a little bit irritated right now," she said, "Because Hermione and I said he shouldn't write to Sirius—you know, with the chance of owl's being intercepted and all. I think it's best to leave him alone right now."

Bryt stared off into the fire. Today had been going so well. Ron had made Gryffindor Keeper—everything had been great. Why couldn't it have just stayed that way? Bryt sighed. Was there going to be a single normal, nothing-bad-happens day this school year? She was beginning to doubt it.

"I think I'm going to bed," Bryt said, slipping her bracelet back around her wrist and standing up. She kissed Ron lightly on the cheek when she made sure no one was looking, then headed off for the girls' dormitories, though she had a feeling she was going to have a hard time getting to sleep that night.


	17. Bad Days Continue

Surprisingly, after everything going through Bryt's mind, she didn't have any nightmares that night—at least, she didn't remember any nightmares. Half of it might have been because she didn't get to sleep until nearly five in the morning and she was probably so exhausted that she couldn't even dream up any nightmares to have.

Bryt and Hermione met up with Ron in the common room, where Bryt was eager to get down to breakfast. After the sleeping so little the night before, Bryt was hoping some food would give her a little more energy. Ron was watching Bryt closely when he came down and Bryt grinned at him in hopes he'd get the message that she was doing better today—she didn't want to talk about the thoughts that had been bothering her more than the idea Voldemort might be up to something.

"Where's Harry?" Bryt asked, suddenly noticing he hadn't come down with Ron. Ron gave a shrug.

"He was already gone when I woke up," he said, "Maybe he went for a walk or something."

"I wouldn't mind a walk," Bryt said as they started for the Great Hall, "It's been a long week."

"And you still have a lot of homework to do," Hermione said sharply, "I can't believe you kept putting it off for Quidditch. You didn't even try out, Bryt!"

"We needed something to keep from going crazy our first week," Bryt replied, "And, truthfully, I don't want to talk about homework. At least not until I've had breakfast."

Hermione muttered something under her breath but didn't say anything else as they reached the Great Hall and sat down for to eat. Bryt was immensely relieved it was the weekend. For a while, it had seemed the week would have never ended. It seemed like it had been one disaster after another.

They hadn't been sitting at the table for long when Harry showed up, an oddly pleased look on his face. It took a second for Bryt to recognize the look. It was the same one she saw Hermione and Julio get when they were around each other. Or the look Sofí had when she talked about Dante.

"What're you so pleased about?" Ron asked and Bryt fought back a small grin. She had a strong suspicion that it had something to do with Cho Chang. She was glad that Harry finally seemed to have one good encounter with the Ravenclaw girl. Maybe today would break their slump they fought through for the past week.

"Quidditch later," Harry answered simply.

"Oh...yeah," Ron said, "Listen...you don't fancy going out a bit earlier with me, do you? Just to—er—give me some practice before training? So I can, you know, get my eye a bit...I trained with Bryt a lot, but it'll be different training with a team member..."

"Yeah, okay," Harry said.

"And you can come if you want, Bryt," Ron turned to her eagerly, obviously hoping she'd say yes. Bryt grinned in response.

"Look, I don't think you should," Hermione said, "You're all really behind on homework as it—"

Hermione didn't get to finish what she was saying as the morning mail arrived. Bryt's only mail was her copy of the _Daily Prophet_, which Bryt paid for and took the paper quickly, unfolding it as Ron leaned closer to her. It had become a bit of a habit with them over the past week to read the paper together, though Bryt sometimes wondered if Ron actually read the paper or just pretended to so that Hermione wouldn't start on him about homework.

Bryt rolled her eyes at the front-page news, which was apparently about one of the band members of The Weird Sisters getting married. Who cared about something like that?

Bryt opened the newspaper, starting to scan the stories inside, finally used to Ron being so close to her while the read. The first couple of days she had had a hard time concentrating on the stories, but now it didn't bother her much at all.

"Damn it," Ron hissed, pointing to one story and Bryt looked at where he was pointing, then let out a curse herself.

"What?" Harry asked, staring at them.

"The Ministry knows Sirius is hiding in London," Bryt whispered gloomily, feeling a small rush of panic building as she lowered the paper, "How could they have found out?"

"Lucius Malfoy," Harry said instantly, "I'll bet anything. He did recognize Sirius on the platform."

Ron and Bryt exchanged a confused look before looking back at Harry. They didn't remember anything about seeing Mr. Malfoy, or anything saying that he had seen Sirius.

"You didn't say—" Ron started, but Hermione cut him off with a warning glance. They had already risked talking about Sirius enough in the crowded Great Hall, though Bryt was still curious about what Harry had been talking about.

Bryt sighed and looked down at the paper again. This wasn't good. They knew Sirius was safe at Grimmauld Place, at least.

Bryt suddenly caught sight of an article that had been crammed into the corner of the paper under an advertisement for a sale at Madam Malkin's. She scanned it quickly, then straightened up.

"Hey, listen to this," she whispered, then read the short article out loud, "_'Sturgis Podmore, thirty-eight, of number two, Laburnum Gardens, Clapham, has appeared in front of the Wizengamot charged with trespassing and attempted robbery at the Ministry of Magic on the 31st of August. Podmore was arrested by Ministry of Magic watchwizard Eric Munch, who found him attempting to force his way through a top-security door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speak in his own defense, was convicted on both charges and sentenced to six months in Azkaban.'_"

"Sturgis Podmore?" Ron asked, recognizing the name. Bryt had, too. She had seen the man often enough during her summer at Grimmauld Place, though she had never talked to him.

"Yeah, that's why I noticed the article," Bryt said quietly, "I recognized his name."

"Six months in Azkaban!" Harry whispered, shocked, "Just for trying to get through a door!"

"Don't be silly, it wasn't just for trying to get through a door," Hermione said, "What on earth was he doing at the Ministry of Magic at one o'clock in the morning?"

Ron glanced around, then leaned forward towards the others.

"D'you reckon he was doing something for the Order?" he asked quietly.

"Wait a moment..." Harry said, seeming to just realize something, "Sturgis was supposed to come and see us off, remember?"

Bryt looked up at Harry, confused for a moment as she thought back to the chaotic morning when they left for Hogwarts.

"Yeah, he was supposed to be part of our guard going to King's Cross, remember?" Harry went on, "And Moody was all annoyed because he didn't turn up, so that doesn't seem like he was supposed to be on a job for them, does it?"

"Maybe they weren't expecting him to be caught," Bryt put in, "Of course, with someone like Moody, you'd think they'd have a back-up plan in case Podmore _did_ get caught...They acted like there was no reason for Podmore not to show up for the guard."

"It could be a frame-up!" Ron suddenly said and they all looked at him. He leaned forward again and dropped his voice lower as he continued, "No, listen! The Ministry suspects he's one of Dumbledore's lot so—I dunno—they _lured_ him to the Ministry, and he wasn't trying to get through a door at all! Maybe they just made something up to get him!"

"I bet you're right," Bryt said grimly, "How corrupt the Ministry is and all."

Harry looked doubtful, but Hermione gave a small nod.

"I wouldn't be at all surprised if that were true," she said, putting down her fork and straightening herself up some, "Right, well, I think we should tackle that essay for Sprout on Self-Fertilizing Shrubs first, and if we're lucky, we'll be able to start McGonagall's Inanimatus Conjurus before lunch..."

Bryt exchanged a guilty look with Ron and Harry, to which Hermione started lecturing them on the importance of their schoolwork. To appease Hermione some, Bryt didn't take her broom, instead taking her school bag with the promise that she'd work on her homework out there instead of 'goofing off with the boys'.

"It's not like we haven't been doing _any_ homework this week," Bryt said irritably, she had been looking forward to doing some flying again, "We have. Besides, we have all weekend for these essays. We can work on them tonight and tomorrow." Bryt sighed, "But looks like I don't have much choice now."

"We could take turns," Ron offered and Bryt waved him off.

"You and Harry are the ones on the Quidditch team, not me," she said, "You're the ones who need to practice. I'm just wanting to 'goof off', as Hermione says."

When they reached the Quidditch pitch, Bryt sat up in the stands and pulled out her dream diary, deciding the best she could do was make up a few dreams for Divination instead trying to concentrate on one of her long essays. Still, Bryt paid a lot more attention to Ron and Harry than her schoolwork. Bryt was immediately aware that Harry was a much better Chaser than Bryt was. Ron had blocked almost all goals Bryt had tried to make—but only about three-fourths of Harry's. It was still most of the goals, but still less than with Bryt. Bryt was sure that Ron would improve, though, and would definitely be ready for their first game.

After a few hours of practice, the three went back up to the castle for lunch. Hermione mostly ignored them—she still thought Harry and Ron were being irresponsible for putting Quidditch ahead of school, and she seemed annoyed that Bryt did very little on her own schoolwork while outside. Hermione was even more annoyed when Bryt decided to head back down to the pitch to watch the Quidditch practice.

"Well, good luck," Bryt told Harry and Ron outside the changing rooms once they reached the pitch again. She turned and headed up into the stands, glaring as she noticed Malfoy, his usual gang of Slytherins, and the entire Slytherin Quidditch team.

_'Ignore them,'_ Bryt told herself, sitting down a good distance away. She knew she didn't need to pick any fights. The less trouble she got in, the better. Besides, Malfoy was a prefect. He'd probably dock Gryffindor of points just for looking at him the wrong way.

As soon as the Gryffindor team came out on the pitch, the group of Slytherins started booing loudly. Bryt gripped her hands into fists. This was going to be a long afternoon.

"What's that Weasley's riding?" Malfoy called out, "Why would anyone put a Flying Charm on a moldy old log like that?"

Bryt bit down on her tongue, gripping her hands tighter. She could feel her nails digging into the palms of her hands already and she glanced down, noticing her knuckles were white. And even worse, the Slytherins' taunts seemed to be getting to Ron. The team started with just passing the Quaffle while flying and Ron missed his first toss, which caused the Slytherins to start laughing.

_'Ignore them,'_ Bryt thought, though she was itching to punch Malfoy in the face, just to shut him up. She was beginning to think any docked House points would be well worth it.

"Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling?" Malfoy called, "Sure you don't need a lie-down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing, that's a record for you, isn't it?"

_'Ignore. Them.'_ Bryt thought venomously. It was taking every ounce of self-control now and she was hugging her clutched fists tightly around her in a half-hug in an attempt to control herself.

Every time Ron made a mistake—which seemed to happen more often as the practice went on—the Slytherins would begin laughing again. Bryt was shaking with anger, imagining several ways of revenge against the Slytherins in an attempt to keep from doing anything rash. After an hour, the Slytherins even began a chant of 'Gryffindors are losers'.

"That's it," Bryt snapped, pushing herself to her feet, marching towards the Slytherins, "All of you shut t'hell up!"

Bryt swung forward, immensely satisfied as her punch landed squarely on Malfoy's face. Malfoy's hands went over his now-bleeding nose as he stumbled backwards out of his seat, glaring.

"You'll pay for this, you little mudblood," he snapped.

"I don' care," Bryt hissed, "Jus' get out of here 'fore I punch again."

Malfoy glared again, then glanced towards the Quidditch pitch. He muttered something under his breath before hurrying off, the other Slytherins right behind. Bryt was a bit surprised that they all left—after all, there were nearly a dozen of them against just one of her—but she was also relieved. She didn't care what happened now. It would be worth it just to get Malfoy and his gang to shut up for a while.

Bryt turned around and saw what might have been part of why they all left. The Gryffindor team had all landed, apparently the practice was over. Bryt gave a bitter laugh. At heart, Slytherins were cowards. They probably thought the Gryffindor team would get into the fight, so they all ran. Bryt made her way down the stands, flexing out her stiff hands. Her anger was starting to subside now that she had punched Malfoy. He had gotten what he deserved, after all.

Ron seemed in a bad mood when he came out of the changing rooms with Harry and Bryt reached over, taking his hand in hers.

"Everyone has an off day, don't worry," she said as they started up to the castle, "You were great at our practices and at the tryouts. Don't let this get you down."

Ron grumbled something under his breath, but didn't say anything more. At least he didn't pull his hand away from Bryt. The three continued to walk in silence until they were about halfway towards the Gryffindor common room.

"Miss Watkins, I need a word with you."

Bryt went tense, letting go of Ron's hand and turning to see Umbridge was nearby, one of her sickeningly sweet grins on her face. Bryt suddenly had a sinking feeling this had to do with her punching Malfoy out on the Quidditch pitch.

"Yes ma'am," Bryt forced herself to remain civil, looking at Harry and Ron, "Head on, I'll catch up."

They nodded, though both seemed reluctant to go. Bryt turned, following as Umbridge led her off towards her office. For once, Bryt didn't have to quicken her own pace to keep up, making Bryt realize for the first time that she wasn't all that much shorter than Umbridge—a few inches at most, though still enough to be noticeable. For the first time in her life, Bryt felt a downright hatred for her short stature instead of just an annoyance. She despised the idea of being shorter than someone like Umbridge.

They walked in silence until they reached Umbridge's office, which Bryt almost felt nauseous entering. The entire room was very, very pink. Umbridge had somehow managed to paint every inch of the wall that offending color and had frilly lace and plates with pictures of multi-colored kittens decorating nearly everywhere. Bryt was reminded of a small girl's room—or the room of one of those 'crazy cat ladies'.

Umbridge sat down at her desk and Bryt kept standing, straightening herself to her fullest height to have at least some chance where her eye level was as much above Umbridge's as possible. Umbridge continued to stare at Bryt with that smile that made Bryt want to hit something—but she had already gotten into enough trouble for that. No matter what, she definitely needed to control herself now.

"I understand you physically assaulted one of your classmates today, Miss Watkins," Umbridge said simply.

Bryt knew it'd be pointless to try and argue her side of the story, so she answered with a simple "Yes ma'am." She'd just have to hope that this went as short as possible so she could get out of this overly-pink room.

"And I took a look at past offenses of yours," Umbridge said, motioning to a file on her desk, "Violence seems to be a habit of yours. You've been in detention for attacking another student before, and I have word that there are more incidents that students have not admitted to."

Bryt didn't say anything. She knew Umbridge was referring to Bryt's second year when Bryt had gotten detention for punching Malfoy—ironically, it had also been when he and the Slytherin Quidditch team had been mocking the Gryffindor team, though the mocking in itself hadn't been what caused Bryt to hit Malfoy that time. The 'unreported incidents' were obviously the three other times Bryt had hit Malfoy and once where she had hit Pansy Parkinson. All those times were very justly deserved, but, again, Bryt knew it'd be pointless to argue this with Umbridge.

"Since one detention obviously isn't enough to get this message to sink in for you," Umbridge said—Bryt had a bad feeling about how Umbridge said the words 'sink in', "I think a couple weeks' worth will be a much better influence. Report back here Monday at five for your first, and you will return every afternoon for the next two weeks."

"Yes ma'am," Bryt said simply. She had been expecting this, though not two weeks of it. After all, Umbridge had only given Harry one week before. What did Umbridge think she'd accomplish by giving Bryt two over an occasional lost temper? Still, Bryt wasn't going to give Umbridge the pleasure of seeing her squirm, or to argue with her.

"May I go?" she asked instead, forcing herself to keep her voice calm.

"Yes," Umbridge said, nodding, that same smile still on her face, "Remember, Monday at five."

Bryt nodded, turning and leaving the room, her hands clutched into fists again. She started off towards the Gryffindor common room, letting out the string of curses she had been holding back in front of Umbridge. She had a strong feeling that by the end of next week that she, like Harry, she would have scars in her own handwriting on the back of her hand. Though she doubted hers would read 'I must not tell lies.'


	18. A Long Sunday

Sunday was a day that Bryt was ready to have done with the moment it started. For starters, she had to deal with Ron cursing Umbridge all through breakfast, much to both her and Hermione's annoyance. Ron kept insisting that Bryt go to McGonagall or Dumbledore before Umbridge had a chance to—as Ron put it—'cut into Bryt's hand.' Bryt kept insisting that she would be fine and pointing out that she wasn't going to give Umbridge the satisfaction of her running to another teacher to get out of detention.

Ron didn't seem to want to give up, however, and kept bringing it up while Bryt stayed with Harry and Ron near the Gryffindor common room fireplace, wading through the pile of essays that they had constantly put off. It was a long, headache-inducing day, with arguing over Bryt not wanting to give in to Umbridge and the three unable to get Hermione's help on their homework. They all knew better than to ask for help considering how often Hermione had been criticizing them over the past week. The only breaks they took were for meals, and even then, all three ate quickly, then returned to the common room to get back to work.

Bryt's hand was cramping by the time they finished their Jupiter essay for Sinistra. She was eager to get everything done and crawl into bed, though she was not looking forward to the next day. She had her first detention then and, though Harry told her about what the quill does and what to expect, Bryt knew it would be different once she was sitting in the room with the quill in her hand.

"Nearly done?" Hermione asked, making her way over to the group well after everyone else had gone to bed.

"No," Bryt and Ron snapped.

Hermione leaned over, looking at their essays.

"Jupiter's biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto," she said, "And it's Io that's got volcanoes."

"Thanks," Ron snapped, going to correct the mistakes. Bryt did the same on her own essay.

"Sorry, I only—"

"Hermione, just let us work," Bryt said irritably, "Right now, I don't care if I fail. I just want this done."

"Ron, look!" Hermione suddenly said.

Bryt blinked, looking up at the same time as Ron and Harry. Hermione was pointing to a window where a familiar screech owl was perched.

"Isn't that Hermes?" Hermione asked in shock. Bryt couldn't blame her. What was Percy's owl doing here? Hadn't he disowned his entire family?

"What's Percy writing me for?" Ron asked, seeming as confused as Bryt as he let Hermes into the common room. The owl flew inside, though the second Ron had the letter, Hermes flew off again.

"That's definitely Percy's handwriting," Ron said slowly, staring at the envelope in his hands.

"Open it," Hermione said at once. Though Bryt doubted they were going to like anything said in that letter, she nodded in agreement.

It seemed Bryt's suspicion was right. The further along the letter Ron got, the angrier he looked. Once done, he threw the letter down onto the table and Bryt picked it up again. Hermione and Harry both leaned over to read it with her:

_Dear Ron,_

_ I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister for Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect._

_ I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must firstly offer my congratulations. I must admit that I have always been afraid that you would take what we might call the "Fred and Georg__e__" route, rather than following in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings on hearing you have stopped flouting authority and have decided to shoulder some real responsibility._

_ But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron, I want to give you some advice, which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post. Hopefully you will be able to read this away from prying eyes and avoid awkward questions._

_ From something the Minister let slip when telling me you are now a prefect, I gather that you are still seeing a lot of Harry Potter. I must tell you, Ron, that nothing could put you in danger of losing your badge more than continued fraternization with that boy. Yes, I am sure you are surprised to hear this—no doubt you will say that Potter has always been Dumbledore's favorite—but I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at __Hogwarts__ much longer and the people who count have a very different—and probably more accurate—view of Potter's behavior. I shall say no more here, but if you look at the Daily Prophet tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing—and see if you can spot yours truly!_

_ Seriously, Ron, you do not want to be tarred with the same brush as Potter, it could be very damaging to you future prospects, and I am talking here about life after school too. As you must be aware, given that our father escorted him to court, Potter had a __disciplinary hearing__ this summer in front of the whole Wizengamot and he did not come out of it looking too good. He got off on a mere technicality if you ask me and many of the people I've spoken to remain convinced of his guilt._

_ It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with Potter—I know that he can be unbalanced and, for all I know violent—but if you have any worries about this, or have spotted anything else in Potter's behavior that is troubling you, I urge you to speak to Dolores Umbridge, a really delightful woman, who I know will be only too happy to advise you._

_ This leaves me to my other bit of advice. As I have hinted above, Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon be over. Your loyalty, Ron, should be not to him, but to the school and the Ministry. I am very sorry to hear that so far Professor Umbridge is encountering very little cooperation from staff as she strives to make those necessary changes within Hogwarts that the Ministry so ardently desires (although she should find this easier from next week—again, see the Prophet tomorrow!). I shall say only this—a student who shows himself willing to help Professor Umbridge now may be very well placed for Head Boyship in a couple of years!_

_ I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over the summer. It pains me to criticize our parents, but I am afraid I can no longer live under their roof while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore (if you are writing to __Mother__ at any point, you might tell her that a certain Sturgis Podmore, who is a great friend of Dumbledore's, has recently been sent to Azkaban for trespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyes to the kind of petty criminals with whom they are currently rubbing shoulders). I count myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of association with such people - the Minister really could not be more gracious to me - and I do hope, Ron, that you will not allow family ties to blind you to the misguided nature of our parents' beliefs and actions either. I sincerely hope that, in time, they will realize how mistaken they were and I shall, of course, be ready to accept a full apology when that day comes._

_ Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Harry Potter, and congratulations again on becoming prefect._

_Your brother,_

_Percy_

Bryt knew exactly why Ron was so angry now. She was gripping the letter so tightly that it was crumpling slightly and a tear was forming in the middle. She didn't think Percy could get any worse than he already was, but this letter just proved her wrong. The next time she saw him, if she ever saw him again, she knew she would be giving that bastard a well-deserved kick in the ass.

"Well," Harry said lightly, "If you want to—er—what was it?" Harry glanced to the ripping letter in Bryt's hands, "Oh yeah—'sever ties' with me, I swear I won't get violent."

Ron snatched the letter from Bryt, causing it to rip completely. He didn't seem to care as he took the rest of the letter from Bryt and started ripping the letter further.

"He—is—the—world's—biggest—git," Ron hissed with each rip before he threw the pieces into the fire.

"Git is an understatement," Bryt said simply, picking up her quill, "C'mon, let's ignore it. We need to get this done."

"Oh give them here," Hermione said sharply. Bryt looked up at her in confusion.

"Give them to me," Hermione said again, holding her hand out, "I'll look through them and correct them."

"Are you serious?" Ron asked, looking relieved, "Ah, Hermione, you're a lifesaver!"

"We promise we won't let homework pile up like this again," Bryt added, pushing her essay over to Hermione.

Bryt leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and rubbing her hands over them. She definitely had a headache, her back was stiff from bending forward so much, and her hand was cramped. She longed to go upstairs and crawl into her bed, but knew she'd have to correct any mistakes Hermione pointed out in her essay before then. She'd have at least another hour or so before going to bed.

"Okay, write that down, both of you," Hermione said and Bryt opened her eyes, realizing Hermione was talking to her and Ron, "And then copy the conclusions I've written for you."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you, Hermione," Bryt said in relief, grabbing her quill to copy down the essay on a new piece of parchment.

"Harry, yours is okay except for the end, I think you must have misheard Professor Sinistra, Europa's covered in _ice_ not mice—Harry?"

Bryt looked up to see Harry was crouched down in front of the fire, slowly moving closer to it.

"Er—Harry?" Ron asked, "Why are you down there?"

"Because I've just seen Sirius's head in the fire," Harry said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Bryt stared at him, confused. She knew Harry had talked to Sirius through a fireplace once before, but why would Sirius be showing up to talk now?

"Sirius's head?" Hermione seemed just as skeptical, "You mean like when he wanted to talk to you during the Triwizard Tournament? But he wouldn't do that now, it would be too—_Sirius_!"

Bryt let out a surprised yelp, dropping her quill. There, in the center of the fire, was Sirius's head, looking as if it were made of flames.

"I was starting to think you'd go off to bed before everyone else had disappeared," Sirius said with a grin, "I've been checking every hour."

Bryt opened her mouth, just about to ask Sirius if he was just _wanting_ to be caught, but Harry spoke up first.

"You've been popping into the fire every hour?" he asked with a laugh. Bryt couldn't see at all what was funny about that.

"Just a few seconds to check if the coast was clear yet."

"Someone could have seen you!" Bryt said.

"Well, I think a girl—first year by the look of her—might've gotten a glimpse of me."

Hermione clamped her hands over her mouth and Bryt was surprised that only one person saw Sirius, no matter how shortly. How reckless, not to mention stupid, could he be?

"But don't worry," Sirius went on quickly, "I was gone the moment she looked back at me and I bet she just thought it was an oddly shaped log or something."

"That's a huge risk—" Bryt started, but Sirius cut her off.

"You sound like Molly," he said, "This was the only way I could come up with of answering Harry's letter without resorting to a code—and codes are breakable."

Bryt, Ron, and Hermione all looked over at Harry. Bryt was feeling annoyed. They had told Harry how dangerous it was to write to Sirius. Didn't he listen to anything anyone told him?

"You didn't say you'd written to Sirius!" Hermione hissed.

"I forgot," Harry said and Bryt snorted. A very convenient thing to forget about.

"Don't look at me like that," Harry said sharply, "There was no way anyone would have got secret information out of it, was there, Sirius?"

"No, it was very good," Sirius said with a grin, "Anyway, we'd better be quick, just in case we're disturbed—your scar. I know it can't be fun when it hurts, but we don't think it's anything to really worry about. It kept aching all last year, didn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry said, "And Dumbledore said it happened whenever Voldemort was feeling a powerful emotion. So maybe he was just, I dunno, really angry or something the night I had detention."

"Well, now that he's back it's bound to hurt more often," Sirius said.

"So it has nothing to do with Umbridge?" Bryt asked.

"I doubt it," Sirius said, "I know her by reputation and I'm sure she's no Death Eater—"

"She's foul enough to be one," Harry said and Ron and Hermione both nodded.

"That doesn't automatically make her one, though," Bryt said, "I can think of plenty of horrible people who probably aren't Death Eaters."

"Exactly," Sirius said, "I know Umbridge is a nasty piece of work, though—you should hear Remus talk about her."

"Does Lupin know her?" Harry asked, his tone giving away he was thinking the same thing Bryt was. Umbridge made it clear that she had little tolerance for those she considered 'dangerous half-breeds'.

"No, but she's drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job," Sirius replied.

_'No wonder Lupin's been looking so unhealthy lately,'_ Bryt thought with a sudden surge of pity. She couldn't imagine what it had to be like going through life as a werewolf. Lupin not only turned into something he couldn't control once a month, but most people feared him so much that it made it hard for him to have any type of normal life or to support himself.

"What's she got against werewolves?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Scared of them, I expect," Sirius replied, "Apparently she loathes part-humans; she campaigned to have merpeople rounded up and tagged last year too. Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose—"

"That's not funny!" Bryt snapped as Ron started laughing, then she turned to Sirius, "You really should be nicer to him, and I'm sure he'd be nicer to you in return."

Over the summer, and even more now, Bryt was slowly starting to lose respect for Sirius. After all, he had told them himself the year before that they could better judge a man by how he treated his lessers, not his equals. And Sirius often treated Kreacher as little more than dirt, something to kick around and abuse, and sometimes went well out of his way to do so. Bryt still liked Sirius—and felt sorry about him over his situation—but she was finding it harder and harder to respect the man as a brave, loyal, caring person she had thought him to be the year before.

"So, what are Umbridge's lessons like?" Sirius asked quickly, obviously wanting off the subject of Kreacher, "Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?"

"No," Harry replied, "She's not letting us use magic at all."

"All we do is read the stupid textbook," Ron added.

"Ah, well, that figures," Sirius replied, "Our information from inside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat."

"_Trained in combat_?" Hermione asked, "What does he think we're doing here, forming some sort of wizard army?"

"That's exactly what he thinks you're doing," Sirius said with a forced smile, "Or rather, that's exactly what he's afraid Dumbledore's doing—forming his own private army, with which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Bryt said.

"Even with all that stuff Luna Lovegood comes up with," Ron added and Bryt glared at him, though she had to admit that he was right. As endearing as Luna's weirdness was, she still said some insane things.

"So we're being prevented from learning Defense Against the Dark Arts because Fudge is scared we'll use our spells against the Ministry?" Hermione asked angrily.

"Yep," Sirius replied, "Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop at nothing to seize power. He's getting more paranoid about Dumbledore by the day. It's a matter of time before he has Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge."

Bryt suddenly thought of Percy's letter and how he had implied that Dumbledore might not be in charge of Hogwarts for too much longer.

"D'you know if there's going to be anything about Dumbledore in the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow?" Harry asked, "Only Ron's brother Percy reckons there will be—"

"I don't know," Sirius said, "I haven't seen anyone from the Order all weekend, they're all busy. It's just been Kreacher and me here..."

Sirius sounded angry at the fact and Bryt bit back a retort. If he only tried to be nicer to Kreacher, things wouldn't be so bad for him.

"So you haven't heard any news about Hagrid, either?" Harry asked.

"Well, he was supposed to be back by now, no one's sure what happened to him," Sirius said and Bryt got a sickening feeling in her stomach, "But Dumbledore's not worried, so don't you four get yourselves in a state; I'm sure Hagrid's fine."

"But if he was supposed to be back by now..." Hermione said weakly, obviously thinking on the same lines as Bryt. What if something horrible had happened to him?

"Madam Maxime was with him, we've been in touch with her and she says they got separated on the journey home—but there's nothing to suggest he's hurt or—well, nothing to suggest he's not perfectly okay."

Bryt looked over at her friends and saw they were all just as unconvinced as she was.

"Listen, don't go asking too many questions about Hagrid," Sirius went on, "It'll just draw even more attention to the fact that he's not back, and I know Dumbledore doesn't want that. Hagrid's tough, he'll be okay."

Bryt was still not convinced. Several things were going through her head on what could have happened to Hagrid. He may be part-giant, but that didn't mean he was invincible. She glanced at her friend and noticed they still didn't seem convinced themselves.

"Listen," Sirius said, "When's your next Hogsmeade weekend? I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn't we? I thought I could—"

"NO!" all four of the friends cut Sirius off.

"Sirius, didn't you see the _Daily Prophet_?" Hermione added.

"Oh, that," Sirius said with a grin, "They're always guessing where I am, they haven't really got a clue—"

"Yeah, but we think this time they have," Harry said, "Something Malfoy said to me on the train made us think he knew it was you, and his father was on the platform, Sirius—you know, Lucius Malfoy—so don't come up here, whatever you do, if Malfoy recognizes you again—"

"All right, all right, I get the point," Sirius said irritably, "Just an idea, thought you might like to get together—"

"I would," Harry said, "I just don't want you chucked back in Azkaban!"

"Or even worse!" Bryt added, having a strong feeling that if Sirius was caught, he wouldn't be sent to Azkaban. After all, when he had been caught at the end of Bryt's third year, the Ministry had been planning to submit Sirius to the Dementor's Kiss, which would leave Sirius essentially brain dead, a soulless husk. Dead, but his body still living.

Sirius didn't seem to hear Bryt's comment, though, as he was staring at Harry with a dark look.

"You're less like your father than I thought," he said, obviously meant to be an insult, "The risk would've been fun for James."

"Look—" Harry started.

"Well, I better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs," Sirius cut in sharply, "I'll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?"

Sirius disappeared from the fire before any of them could reply and Bryt glared after him. They wanted to protect Sirius, make sure he didn't end up with a fate worse than death, and all Sirius seemed to care about was taking unnecessary risks because they'd be fun. Again, Bryt couldn't help but noting that, despite still caring for Sirius, she was losing her respect for the man.

Bryt sighed, leaning back and picking up her quill again. She didn't want to think about Sirius right now and she still had her essay to finish. Bryt tried to force Sirius from her mind as she tried to get the work done. It seemed none of her friends wanted to talk about what had just happened, either, because Ron turned back to his own essay, Hermione picked up one of her books, and Harry just stared off into the now-empty fire.

_'Hopefully Sirius will learn we've got his best interests at heart,'_ Bryt thought bitterly, dipping her quill in the ink, again trying to push Sirius from her mind. She still had a lot of work to do and knew she had a long day ahead of her tomorrow. One she wasn't looking forward to at all.


	19. Inspections and Detention

Bryt's prediction that Monday would be a bad day was proven true when she opened her copy of the Daily Prophet at breakfast. The second she saw the front page, she knew she had found the article Percy mentioned in his letter to Ron. She cursed under her breath glaring at the picture of Umbridge that was positioned under the headline:

**MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM**

**DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"**

"High Inquisitor?" Harry asked when Bryt showed the paper to the others, "What does _that_ mean?"

"Dunno, hold on," Bryt said, flattening out the paper a bit more and clearing her throat before she began to read the article:

"_In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

"_'The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,' said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley, 'He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve.'_ That damn git. He was goin' t'this school not two years ago! How can he agree t'go along with all this crap?"

"Bryt, keep reading," Hermione said, glaring at the paper.

Bryt nodded, taking a deep breath to try and push back her rising anger as she went back to the paper.

"_This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August 30th Educational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person._

"_'That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,' said Weasley last night. 'Dumbledore couldn't find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she's been an immediate success—'_"

"She's been a _what_?" Harry snapped at the same time Bryt had added "No she has _not_!"

Despite it being on the table, Bryt was gripping the paper so tightly that rips were forming along the edges, though she ignored it as she went on.

"_'—she's been an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts—_Yeah, by not teaching us anything and forcing us to read that damn book—_'and providing the Minister with on-the-ground feedback about what's really happening at Hogwarts.'_

"_'This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the "falling standards" at Hogwarts,' said Weasley, 'The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted.'_

"_The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts._

"_'I feel much easier in my mind now that I know that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,' said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, forty-one, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. 'Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years and will be glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation.'_ Yeah right. You're just pissed that you can bribe or threaten Dumbledore into doing what you want.

"_Among those 'eccentric decisions' are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half-giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror 'Mad-Eye' Moody._

"_Rumors abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts._

"_'I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step towards ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose confidence,' said a Ministry insider last night._ Meaning Fudge probably said it and wants to make it look like he has more support.

"_Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts._

"_'Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office,' said Madam Marchbanks. 'This is a further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore. (For a full account of Madam Marchbanks's alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page seventeen)._ Oh, just great. They show someone supporting Dumbledore just to paint them as some criminal to 'prove more a point' that Dumbledore's 'not fit to run Hogwarts'."

Bryt crumpled up the paper and threw it across the table, where it hit the wall and bounced down to the floor.

"I hate the Ministry," she hissed, "And the _Daily Prophet_."

"At least we know for sure that the Ministry forced Umbridge on us," Hermione said bitterly, "And now Fudge has given Umbridge the power to inspect other teachers! I can't believe this. It's _outrageous_..."

"Tell me about it," Bryt hissed, then noticed Ron was grinning, "What's with you?"

"Oh, I can't wait to see McGonagall inspected," Ron said, still grinning, "Umbridge won't know what hit her!"

Bryt laughed, feeling a bit better and prayed that Umbridge would inspect one of her Transfiguration classes. She'd pay anything to see McGonagall put Umbridge in her place.

"Well, come on," Hermione said, standing up and checking her watch, "We'd better get going, if she's inspecting Binns's class we don't want to be late..."

"I doubt she'd inspect him," Bryt said as they started off, "His classes are as boring as Umbridge's. Besides, I have a feeling Binns wouldn't even realize he's been sacked. He'd probably still keep teaching while the new teacher was there."

"Doubt anyone would even notice Binns if that happened," Ron answered. Bryt and Harry laughed while Hermione shot them all dark looks.

Though Umbridge hadn't been in their History of Magic class, and, to Bryt's disappointment, she wasn't there for Potions. Bryt was looking forward to her two least favorite teachers facing off against each other.

Potions hadn't been completely uneventful, however. They were given back their essays, where Bryt saw a large E marked in the top corner. She blinked and glanced at Hermione next to her, who had an E on her own essay.

"Exceeds Expectations," Hermione whispered happily, "The second-highest mark you can get on your OWLs."

Bryt nodded, though she felt a bit disappointed. She had gone through Potions the last four years with extremely high marks—it was by far her best class, and she always managed to stay on-par with Hermione grade-wise. She took pride in doing so well, and now felt as if she had gotten a B when she always got A's.

_'At least Hermione got an E, too,'_ Bryt thought with a twinge of guilt. She felt a little better that Hermione hadn't managed to do better than her.

Bryt looked over at Harry and Ron, about to ask what they had made, but Snape had gotten to the front of the classroom.

"I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your OWL," Snape said, "This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in your examination. The general standard of this homework is abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall start handing out detentions to those dunces who get D's."

"Some people got _D's_?" Malfoy asked with a laugh. Bryt glared at him, not finding it funny at all about people who didn't do well in a class.

Potions passed by uneventfully after that as they worked on their Strengthening Solutions. Bryt was pleased with her own work, sure that this one, at least, would have gotten top marks on an OWL exam as she headed out of the classroom for lunch.

"Well, that wasn't as bad as last week, was it?" Hermione asked happily, "And the homework didn't go too badly either, did it?"

Bryt shrugged, though she noticed Harry and Ron were both quiet. Bryt felt a jab of disappointment. She had spent a lot of time helping Ron with his essay on parts he couldn't figure out. She was hoping that would at least be good enough to get him passing.

"I mean," Hermione went on, "I didn't expect the top grade, not if he's marking to OWL standard, but a pass is quite encouraging at this stage, wouldn't you say? Of course, a lot can happen between now and the exam, we've got plenty of time to improve, but the grades we're getting now are a sort of baseline, aren't they? Something we can build on..."

Bryt sighed as they sat down at the table and she started putting soup into both her and Ron's bowls.

"I think Hermione's trying to ask what you two made on your essays," she said, not wanting to listen to Hermione beat around the bush anymore. Hermione flushed slightly, busying herself with her own plate.

"I got an A," Ron said.

"What's A stand for?" Bryt asked.

"Acceptable," Hermione put in.

"Barely passing," Ron muttered to Bryt as she leaned over to put the last ladleful of soup into Ron's bowl, "But I probably would have done worse without your help."

Bryt felt heat rush to her face as she grinned at him.

"Teachers starting to grade by OWL standards?" Fred asked as he, George, and Lee sat down with them at the table.

Hermione nodded.

"I was just about to explain the grades to Bryt and Harry, they both don't seem to understand them," she said, "The top grade's O for Outstanding. And then there's E for Exceeds Expectations—"

"I've always thought Fred and I should've gotten E in everything," George cut in with a smile, "Because we exceeded expectations just by turning up for the exams."

Bryt snorted into her goblet while Hermione glared at George.

"After E, it's A for Acceptable," Hermione went on, "And that's the last passing grade, isn't it?"

"Yep," Fred said.

"Then you got P for Poor," Ron explained, "Then D for Dreadful."

"And T," George added.

"T?" Hermione asked, looking as if she couldn't imagine any grade lower than a D, "What on earth does that sand for?"

"Troll," George said.

_'How does someone score low enough to be labeled a troll?'_ Bryt thought, _'Do they just not show up for the exam?'_

Bryt suddenly had a wild thought about skipping her Divination OWL—since she wasn't planning to continue the class in NEWT years—but then thought about what Hermione would do if she saw a T on Bryt's exam papers and decided it wouldn't be worth it.

"You lot had an inspected lesson yet?" Fred asked.

"Nope," Bryt replied, "You?"

"Just now, before lunch," George said, "Charms."

"What was it like?" Harry and Hermione asked at once.

"Not that bad," Fred answered with a shrug, "Umbridge just lurked in the corner making notes on a clipboard. You know what Flitwick's like, he treated her like a guest, didn't seem to bother him at all. She didn't say much. Asked Alicia a couple of questions about what the classes are normally like, Alicia told her they were really good, that was it."

"I can't see old Flitwick getting marked down," George added, "He usually gets everyone through their exams all right."

"Who've you got this afternoon?" Fred asked Harry.

"Trelawney—"

"A T if I ever saw one."

"—and Umbridge herself."

"Well, be a good boy and keep your temper with Umbridge today," George said, looking at Harry, "Angelina'll do her nut if you miss any more Quidditch practices."

Harry looked annoyed at that. Bryt guessed he was getting tired of being constantly told to keep his temper around Umbridge. Bryt had to admit, Harry could use the advice. Especially since he was more and more temperamental lately.

Though the thought of Umbridge just reminded Bryt of her first detention that she'd have that night. Bryt looked down at her left hand, realizing that in two weeks, it wasn't going to look the same. There'd be scars there—scars in her own handwriting. Bryt swallowed. She was not looking forward to that evening.

**xxxxx**

Unfortunately, Bryt, Harry, and Ron didn't have to wait for Defense Against the Dark Arts to run into Umbridge. Bryt had barely settled herself between the boys in Divination when Umbridge came up through the trap door.

"Good afternoon, Professor Trelawney," Umbridge said, "You received my note, I trust? Giving the time and date of your inspection?"

Trelawney answered with a nod, looking extremely displeased with Umbridge's presence as she continued to pass out copies of _The Dream Oracle_. Bryt watched as Umbridge pulled a chair uncomfortably close to Trelawney's desk and sat down, waiting for the class to start. Bryt glared at her, but averted her gaze to the table before Umbridge would notice. Bryt didn't like Trelawney, but it was in annoyance. Not the hatred she had for Snape and Umbridge. Bryt didn't want to see Trelawney at risk of her job because of Umbridge's vendetta against teachers that 'didn't meet Ministry standards'.

"We shall be continuing our study of prophetic dreams today," Trelawney said, and Bryt noticed that there was an odd edge to her tone, "Divide into pairs, please, and interpret each other's latest nighttime visions with the aid of the _Oracle_."

Bryt watched as Trelawney headed over to Parvati and Lavender, who're already talking about recent dreams. Bryt rolled her eyes before glancing towards Umbridge. The woman had finished making notes on her clipboard and was now starting to walk around the room.

"Think of a dream, quick," Harry whispered, "In case the old toad comes our way."

"I did it last time," Ron replied, "You come up with one, Harry."

"Oh, I dunno...Let's say I dreamed I was...drowning Snape in my cauldron. Yeah, that'll do..."

"Or get you in detention with me for being violent," Bryt said, flipping through the pages of the book, "Try something else...Like you dreamed about playing Quidditch or something."

"That'd work better," Ron said, scooting closer to Bryt to look at the book, "Now, we've got to add your age to the date you had the dream, then the number of letters in the subject..."

"I thought this was Divination, not math class," Bryt muttered and Ron raised an eyebrow at her while Harry choked back a laugh.

"What night did you have the dream?" Ron asked, looking back at Harry.

"I dunno, last night," Harry replied with a shrug, glancing towards Umbridge and Trelawney at the next table over. Suddenly, the three's dream interpretation was forgotten, though they stayed bent over their table to pretend they were working as they listened in on the conversation next to them.

"Now," Umbridge said, "You've been in this post how long, exactly?"

"Nearly sixteen years," Trelawney replied after a pause. Bryt snuck a glance to see Trelawney had her arms crossed over her chest and was hunched down slightly.

"Quite a period," Umbridge replied, and Bryt heard the sound of quill on parchment, "So it was Professor Dumbledore who appointed you?"

"That's right."

Bryt had a bad feeling as she took another glance, seeing Umbridge making a note on her clipboard. It seemed that Umbridge had decided before she even walked in the room that she was going to mark Trelawney down, find any excuse to criticize her. Again, Bryt didn't like Trelawney, but she didn't think the Divination teacher deserved this.

"And you are a great-great-granddaughter of the celebrated Seer Cassandra Trelawney?" Umbridge asked.

"Yes."

"But I think—correct me if I am mistaken—that you are the first in your family since Cassandra to be possessed by the second sight?"

"These things often skip—er—three generations."

Umbridge gave one of her sickeningly sweet smiles that told Bryt that nothing good was about to happen.

"Of course," Umbridge said, marking something on her clipboard, "Well, if you could just predict something for me, then?"

Trelawney stared at Umbridge as if she had been just asked to jump out of the window.

"I don't understand you," Trelawney said slowly.

"I'd like you to make a prediction for me," Umbridge said slowly and clearly. Bryt chanced another glance and noticed Trelawney was straightening herself up—Bryt suddenly remembered a couple of nights before when Bryt had tried to do the same thing when facing Umbridge. She found herself a little pleased that Trelawney, at least, could stand taller than the old toad.

"The Inner Eye does not See upon command!" Trelawney said sharply.

"I see," Umbridge said, marking something on her clipboard. Bryt glared over at her, wanting desperately to do something, anything, to put Umbridge in her place. She knew better, though. She was already in enough trouble as it is—she did anything more, and there would be a good chance she'd end up expelled or something.

"Wait!" Trelawney said, focusing her gaze on Umbridge, "I...I think I do see something...something that concerns _you_...Why, I sense something dark...some grave peril...I am afraid...I am afraid you are in grave danger!"

"If only..." Bryt whispered, knowing far too well than to take anything Trelawney said seriously. Bryt would love to see Umbridge get what was coming to her.

From the way Umbridge grinned and started marking on her clipboard, Bryt knew that Trelawney was in trouble—and she wasn't surprised. Trelawney only seemed to make things worse on herself, however, as she came toward Bryt's table, snatched up Harry's dream diary, and started interpreting every one of his dreams as omens of his death.

Bryt wanted to talk about what happened after class, but held her tongue with Umbridge walking in front of them all the way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. At least when they sat down, they were able to tell Hermione about what happened while the class began to fill up.

"Wands away," Umbridge instructed and Bryt resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew better than to take out her wand by now. "As we finished chapter one last lesson, I would like you all to turn to page nineteen today and commence chapter two. 'Common Defensive Theories and Their Derivation'. There will be no need to talk."

Bryt sighed, opening her book to the right page and prepared herself for another day of daydreaming. She was surprised to see Hermione hadn't even opened her book and now had her hand in the air.

This time, however, Umbridge didn't wait for half the class to talk to Hermione. She stood up and came over, leaning on Hermione's desk, obviously trying to keep this conversation from drawing the attention of the entire class.

"What is it this time, Miss Granger?" Umbridge asked in a whisper.

"I've already read chapter two."

"Well, then, proceed to chapter three."

"I've read that, too. I've read the whole book."

Bryt gave Hermione an odd look. How in the world did Hermione have the attention span and patience to do that? Bryt could barely make it through one chapter.

"Well then, you should be able to tell me what Slinkhard says about counterjinxes in chapter fifteen."

Hermione straightened herself up and answered without hesitation.

"He says the counterjinxes are improperly named," she said, "He says 'counterjinx' is just a name people give their jinxes when they want to make them sound more acceptable."

Bryt gave a small grin, but kept her head down to hide it, as she noticed Umbridge was struggling not to show how impressed she was.

"But I disagree," Hermione went on, not bothering to whisper as Umbridge had, "Mr. Slinkhard doesn't like jinxes, does he? But I think they can be very useful when they're used defensively."

"Oh, you do, do you?" Umbridge asked, straightening up and no longer whispering, "Well, I'm afraid it's Mr. Slinkhard's opinion, and not yours, that matters within this classroom, Miss Granger."

"But—"

"That's enough," Umbridge cut in, heading back to her own desk before turning to face the class, "Miss Granger, I'm going to take five points from the Gryffindor House."

"Just for stating her opinion?" Bryt snapped before she could stop herself. Hermione gave her a warning look and Bryt sunk back in her seat. She was already in enough trouble with Umbridge—she definitely didn't need more.

"She is disrupting my class with pointless interruptions," Umbridge answered, then addressing the entire class, "I am here to teach you using a Ministry-approved method that does not include inviting students to give their opinions on matters about which they understand very little. Your previous teachers in this subject may have allowed you more license, but as none of them—with the possible exception of Professor Quirrell, who did at least appear to have restricted himself to age-appropriate subjects—would have passed a Ministry inspection—"

"Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher. There was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head."

Bryt groaned, giving Harry a disapproving look. She thought he'd have learned by now to keep his mouth shut around Umbridge.

"I think another week's detention would do you some good, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said with a grin.

**xxxxx**

"Well, at least you're not in detention alone," Bryt said that afternoon as she hand Harry left the Great Hall after dinner, heading for Umbridge's office.

"That's not really a good thing," Harry pointed out and Bryt shrugged in response, letting the conversation fall silent.

Once again, Bryt was feeling worried and anxious. She was beginning to wonder if it would have been better for her to not know what to expect from the detention—Harry had told her exactly what the quill was like, and Bryt was wanting more and more to be anywhere but in that room. She knew if she hadn't been walking with Harry, she'd be constantly looking at the back of her left hand—it was hard to believe that she'd have her own scars there in a few days. It was one thing for something unexpected to happen and leave a scar. It hadn't bothered Bryt at all when she was nine and broke her leg, leaving the scar there, or the one on her shoulder from the time she had stitches after falling out of a tree in her back yard when she was six. But now that Bryt knew that she was going to have a scar from an injury she hadn't yet received...The idea bothered her more than it probably should have.

Bryt was so lost in her thoughts, she almost walked right into Harry when they reached Umbridge's office. She took a deep breath, straightening herself up and working hard not to let her worry show on her face as they went in. Umbridge was waiting at her desk and Bryt noticed that Umbridge had set up two smaller desks with chairs on opposite sides of the room, both facing the walls. Both desks already had a piece of parchment and a quill laying on them.

"Mr. Potter, you know what to do," Umbridge said, motioning to one desk, then turning to Bryt and motioned to the other, "Miss Watkins, you will sit here and write 'I must not commit violence' until I think you have learned your lesson well."

Bryt gave one nod, knowing better than to look over at Harry now. She walked over to the desk Umbridge motioned to and sunk down into the seat, dropping her mini backpack next to her. Being forced to face a wall like this, Bryt suddenly felt like she was in kindergarten again, being put in time out for giving one of her classmates a bloody nose—but the boy at least took the hint and didn't try to kiss Bryt again after that.

As Bryt slowly picked up the quill, her heart started pounding. Bryt fought back an annoyed huff. After all, Bryt had been through countless dangerous situations before, some of which had been life-threatening. Now here she was, afraid of a detention.

Bryt straightened herself up some, deciding she'd better get started before Umbridge noticed her hesitation. Bryt gripped the quill tightly, then slowly lowered it on the paper and wrote the first _'I must not commit violence.'_

A sharp pain went through the back of Bryt's hand and she bit on her tongue to keep from crying out loud, though she took a quick break through her nose. She watched as the words formed over the back of her hand, then faded away again, leaving a lightly pink, irritated mark.

Her first cut. By far not the last.

Bryt kept her head down, determined not to let Umbridge see her show any weakness. For hours, Bryt sat there, writing the same sentence over and over, trying to ignore the pain as each sentence carved the words into the back of her hand just to be healed over again. By the time Umbridge finally released them, Bryt's hand was throbbing and sore—half from the repeated cuts, and half from how tightly Bryt had been gripping the quill by the end of detention. At least her hand didn't look as bad as Harry's, though. He had wrapped his hand in a cloth, as it hadn't stopped bleeding.

_'Though my hand will be like that next week,'_ Bryt thought. Still, she felt relieved to have the first detention over with. It actually hadn't been as bad as she thought it was going to be. Her imagination had just gone a bit too overboard about the quill and writing lines for Umbridge. Now that Bryt had gotten through this first detention, she was sure she would be able to make it through the rest.


	20. A Proposition

Tuesday seemed to start nearly as bad as Monday had been. It started with Angelina cornering Harry in the Great Hall and was shouting so loudly at him that it got the attention of several nearby students and McGonagall. This lead to McGonagall learning about Harry being in detention with Umbridge again, which she responded to by taking points from Gryffindor and warning him again to keep his temper around Umbridge. Harry seemed determined to stay furious at McGonagall all through Charms class, but Bryt noticed that anger seemed to evaporate instantly when they walked into Transfiguration.

"Excellent," Ron said when they noticed Umbridge sitting in the corner of the room, "Let's see Umbridge get what she deserves."

"It's about time," Bryt said as they sat down. She was looking forward to this.

When McGonagall came into the room, she acted as if Umbridge wasn't even there, getting the class to settle down and be quiet for the lesson to start.

"Mr. Finnigan, kindly come here and hand back the homework," McGonagall said, "Miss Brown, please take this box of mice—don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you—and hand one to each student—"

"_Hem, hem_."

Bryt sighed. She hated that sound with a passion and was sure it would haunt her sleep for years. McGonagall ignored Umbridge, however, as Seamus continued passing out the essays. Bryt saw she had gotten a P on hers, which was about what she had expected. After all, she was horrible with Transfiguration. She already knew she'd be failing her OWL in this class. She was still surprised she ever managed to pass her exams in the past years.

"Right, then," McGonagall went on, "Everyone, listen closely. Most of you have now successfully vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have the gist of the spell. Today we shall be—"

"_Hem, hem_."

"Yes?" McGonagall asked, turning to Umbridge.

"I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec—"

"Obviously I received it," McGonagall interrupted, "Or I would have asked you what you were doing in my classroom."

Bryt glanced at her friends, grinning brightly. She wasn't the only one. It seemed the entire class was pleased about McGonagall's treatment towards the newest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"As I was saying," McGonagall went on, "Today we shall be practicing the altogether more difficult vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell—"

"_Hem, hem_."

"I wonder how you expect me to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me?" McGonagall asked, "You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking."

Bryt grinned again, enjoying this far more than she should. She saw Umbridge looked as if McGonagall had told her something extremely offensive. Umbridge looked down to her clipboard and started writing fast, though McGonagall didn't seem bothered.

"As I was saying," the Transfiguration teacher turned back to the class, "The Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult with the complexity of the animal to be vanished. The snail, as an invertebrate, does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammal, offered a much greater one. This is not, therefore, magic you can accomplish with your mind on your dinner. So—you know the incantation, let me see what you can do..."

"And she lectures me about losing my temper with Umbridge!" Harry whispered, though he was grinning just as much as Bryt was.

To Bryt's disappointment, Umbridge decided not to shadow McGonagall around the room as she had with Trelawney—Bryt had been hoping to see McGonagall's reaction to that. Instead, Umbridge stayed in her corner and watched the class while she made notes on her clipboard. When class ended, Umbridge went over to McGonagall, and Bryt and her friends took their time packing away their things, eager to eavesdrop. Unfortunately, all they overheard was a question about how long McGonagall had been teaching and when to expect her inspection results.

Bryt had hoped she wouldn't encounter Umbridge again until detention, but she didn't have that much luck. When she and the others went down for Care of Magical Creatures, Umbridge was waiting for them with Grubbly-Plank and was apparently already into her inspection.

"You do not usually take this class, is that correct?" Umbridge was asking as Bryt made her way to the table of bowtruckles.

"Quite correct," Grubbly-Plank answered, "I am a substitute teacher standing in for Professor Hagrid."

Bryt bit her lip anxiously as she glanced at her friends. Malfoy was whispering excitedly with his gang nearby and Bryt had a sinking feeling this wouldn't end well.

"I wonder..." Umbridge said in a quiet voice, obviously meaning for only Grubbly-Plank to hear, "The headmaster seems strangely reluctant to give me any information on the matter—can _you_ tell me what is causing Professor Hagrid's very extended leave of absence?"

"'Fraid I can't," Grubbly-Plank answered, "Don't know anything more about it than you do. Got an owl from Dumbledore, asking would I like a couple of weeks teaching work, accepted—that's as much as I know. Well, shall I get started then?"

"Yes, please do."

Bryt tried to ignore Umbridge during this lesson, but it was a hard task as Umbridge had decided to walk around during this inspection, asking questions to the students. At least they were able to answer with what they knew about magical creatures, which did prove Hagrid was a good teacher. Once Umbridge seemed satisfied with the students, she returned to Grubbly-Plank.

"Overall, how do you, as a temporary member of staff—an objective outsider, I suppose you might say—how do you find Hogwarts? Do you feel you receive enough support from the school management?"

"Oh, yes, Dumbledore's excellent," Grubby-Plank said happily, much to Bryt's relief, "No, I'm very happy with the way things are run, very happy indeed."

Umbridge grinned, but Bryt had a feeling she didn't like Grubby-Plank's answer. She made a quick note on her clipboard before looking back at Grubby-Plank.

"And what are you planning to cover with this class this year—assuming, of course, that Professor Hagrid does not return?"

_'He _will_ return,'_ Bryt thought, glaring at Umbridge. She didn't like the way Umbridge had phrased that question.

"Oh, I'll take them through the creatures that most often come up in OWL," Grubby-Plank said, "Not much left to do—they've already studied unicorns and nifflers, I thought we'd cover porlocks and kneazles, make sure they can recognize crups and knarls, you know..."

"Well, _you_ seem to know what you're doing at any rate," Umbridge said, then started patrolling the class again and Bryt glared after her. She had a very, very bad feeling about the emphasis Umbridge had put on 'you'.

Bryt's bad feeling only got worse when she noticed Umbridge had went over to Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Now, I hear there have been injuries in this class?"

"That was me," Malfoy offered quickly, "I was slashed by a hippogriff."

"A hippogriff?" Umbridge started writing quickly on her clipboard.

_'Because he doesn't listen,'_ Bryt thought, biting down on her tongue to keep from saying it out loud. Unfortunately, Harry didn't have as much self-control and said what Bryt had been thinking as loudly as he could.

Bryt, Hermione, and Ron all groaned as Umbridge turned towards them, her sickeningly sweet grin on her face, and gave Harry another night's worth of detention to add to the week he already had.

**xxxxx**

Bryt's second detention went as badly as the first, though her hand was more red by the end of it. It still hadn't started to permanently scar yet, and Harry's hand was the worst she'd seen so far. It was still bleeding so badly after the detention that Bryt gave him her scarf headband to use as a temporary bandage.

Surprisingly, Hermione and Ron were still up in the common room when Bryt and Harry got there—despite the fact it was after midnight. Once Bryt and Harry sat down, Bryt had to show Ron her hand to prove that she was fine and it hadn't started scaring yet. Hermione offered them both a bowl of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles, which Bryt knew from Julio that it helped with injuries. She mentally kicked herself, knowing she should have thought of it to offer Harry earlier.

"I still reckon you should complain about this," Ron said after Harry sunk his hand into the bowl—Bryt refused, saying her hand wasn't cut yet and Harry needed it more than she did.

"No," Bryt and Harry answered together.

"McGonagall would go nuts if she knew—"

"Yeah, she probably would," Harry cut in, "And how long d'you reckon it'd take Umbridge to pass another Decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?"

"Truthfully, I'm surprised she hasn't passed that Decree already," Bryt said. Umbridge was definitely a power-hungry, evil old woman.

Ron didn't seem to have an answer to that as he sunk back in his chair, looking over at Bryt.

"You know I agree with Harry here," Bryt said before Ron could say anything.

"She's an awful woman," Hermione spoke up before the argument could go any further, "_Awful_. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you two came in...We've got to do something about her."

"I suggested poison," Ron said.

"Now there's an idea..." Bryt muttered. She didn't want Umbridge dead, but if they could make her sick enough that she had to leave Hogwarts...

"No," Hermione said, pulling Bryt from her daydreaming, "I mean, something about what a dreadful teacher she is, and how we're not learning any defense from her at all."

"Well, what can we do about that?" Ron asked with a yawn, "It's too late, isn't it? She's got the job, she's here to stay, Fudge'll make sure of that."

"We could slip her one of Fred and George's Skiving Snackboxes," Bryt said, "One they haven't gotten fully developed yet—just to make her sick enough that she has to leave the school."

Ron and Harry looked pleased by this idea, but Hermione glared at them.

"I was thinking about something else," she said, then glanced at Harry with a nervous look, "I was thinking that—maybe the time's come when we should just—just do it ourselves."

"Do what ourselves?" Harry asked, sounding as if he wasn't going to like Hermione's idea. Bryt, however, had a good idea what Hermione was talking about and she was liking thought.

"Take matters in our own hands, right?" Bryt asked, looking at Hermione, "You're talking about teaching ourselves Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Hermione nodded.

"Come off it, Hermione," Ron said, "You want us to do extra work? D'you realize Harry, Bryt, and I are behind on homework again and it's only the second week?"

"But this is much more important than homework!" Hermione said.

A long silence hung in the air between them.

"Who're you and what'd you do with Hermione?" Bryt finally asked, dumbfounded.

Hermione's face went pink and she got a fiercely determined look on her face—one very similar to the year before when she and Bryt began forming SPEW.

"This is about preparing ourselves, like Harry said in Umbridge's first lesson, for what's waiting out there," Hermione said, straightening herself up, "It's about making sure we really can defend ourselves. If we don't learn anything for a whole year—"

"We can't do much by ourselves," Ron said slowly, "I mean, all right, we can go look up jinxes in the library and try to practice them, I suppose..."

"That could work..." Bryt said slowly, "And try to find empty classrooms to work in, like when we helped Harry prepare for the third task last year."

"No, we've gone past the stage where we can just learn things out of books," Hermione said, "We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use the spells and correct us if we're going wrong."

"But who?" Bryt asked, "All I can think of is Lupin, and there's no way we can get his help."

"You're right," Hermione said, "Lupin is too busy with the Order, and the most we could see him is during Hogsmeade weekends and that's not nearly often enough."

"Who, then?" Harry asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione asked with a sigh, "I'm talking about _you_, Harry."

Bryt stared at Hermione, at first thinking she was crazy. After a second, though, Bryt thought about it more and realized the potential of that idea. Who better to teach them than someone who knew exactly what it was like to be in the fight? The years they had learned the most were in the past two, both of whom knew from experience what they were talking about—even though it turned out that the man they thought had been their teacher last year had actually been a Death Eater in disguise. Bryt gave a small nod.

"That could work," she said.

"What could work?" Harry asked.

"You teaching us," Ron said.

Harry stared at them in confusion, then got an odd grin on his face as if he thought this was funny. Bryt couldn't figure out why he thought learning to defend themselves was amusing.

"But I'm not a teacher," Harry said, "I can't—"

"Harry, you're the best in the year at Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione cut in.

"Me? No I'm not, you've beaten me in every test."

"Actually I haven't," Hermione said, looking embarrassed, "You beat me in our third year—the only year we both sat the test and had a teacher who actually knew the subject. But I'm not talking about test results, Harry. Look at what you've _done_!"

"How do you mean?"

Ron started grinning himself now.

"You know what?" he said, "I'm not sure I want something this stupid teaching me." Ron turned back to Harry. "Let's think...First year—you saved the Stone from You-Know-Who."

"But that was luck...That wasn't skill—"

"Second year," Bryt cut in, "You killed a basilisk and destroyed Riddle's diary, not to mention saving Ginny's life."

"Yeah, but if Fawkes hadn't turned up I—"

"Third year," Ron raised his voice to talk over Harry, "You fought off about a hundred dementors at once—"

Bryt shuddered slightly at the thought of how it felt to have dementors around. She was definitely glad that one was staying a memory that she hopefully would never relive.

"You know that was a fluke," Harry insisted, "If the Time-Turner hadn't—"

"Last year," Bryt spoke up now, looking back at Harry, "There was all you did during the Tournament and..." Bryt trailed off, not sure how to handle this next part. She was sure what happened to Harry in the graveyard—especially Cedric Diggory's death—was still a sore subject for him.

"And you fought You-Know-Who again," Ron finished Bryt's sentence.

"Listen to me!" Harry snapped and Bryt bit her lip. Harry's temper was showing again and Bryt knew this wouldn't end well. She looked over to Ron and Hermione and was surprised to see they were both smirking. What were they finding so funny about all of this?

"Just listen to me, all right?" Harry went on, "It sounds great when you say it like that, but all that stuff was luck—I didn't know what I was doing half the time, I didn't plan any of it, I just did whatever I could think of, and nearly always had help. Don't sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there all right? I know what went on, all right? And I didn't get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through because—because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right—but I just blundered through it all, I didn't have a clue what I was doing—STOP LAUGHING!"

Bryt flinched back as Harry shoved himself to his feet, the bowl of murtlap essence falling to the floor with a crash. Hermione and Ron finally stopped grinning, Ron taking Bryt's hand. Bryt felt heat rise to her face, wondering if he had seen Bryt flinch a second ago.

"_You don't know what it was like!_" Harry went on, yelling louder, "You—none of you—you've never had to face him, have you? You just think it's just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you're in class or something? The whole time you know there's nothing between you and dying except your own—your own brain or guts or whatever—like you can think straight when you know you're about a second away from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die—they've never taught us any of that in classes, what it's like to deal with that—"

Bryt shuddered, tightening her grip on Ron's hand and leaning on him slightly. Her mind started going back to the events of their third year when facing the dementors, not to mention when they faced Sirius while thinking he was a mass murderer. Then there was at the World Cup last year—the chaos and panic, running blindly through the woods, wondering if the next person to come through the trees behind her would be a Death Eater who'd just as soon kill her...Bryt took a shaky breath, starting to feel the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes. She screwed up her face, however, trying to push them back. She sure as hell wasn't about to start crying here. At least Ron's arm around her was helping.

"You three are sitting there acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here alive," Harry went on, "Like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up—you just don't get it, that could just as easily been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn't needed me—"

"We weren't saying anything like that, mate," Ron cut in—Bryt could see him watching her from the corner of her eye, but she determinedly kept her gaze in front of her in an attempt to ignore the stinging sensation of tears at the corner of her eyes, "You've got the wrong end of the..."

Ron trailed off, looking from Bryt to Hermione, then back at Bryt.

"We know it wasn't easy," Bryt said, struggling hard to keep her voice steady. She tried to continue, but her voice caught in her throat and she swallowed hard.

"Harry..." Hermione started, her voice quiet and her face pale, "Don't you see? This...This is exactly why we need you...We need to know what it's really like...facing him...facing V-Voldemort."

Bryt looked over at Hermione in surprise. She had never heard Hermione use Voldemort's name before. Harry seemed just as taken aback as Bryt had, as he slowly sank back down into his chair, letting the silence hang in the air. Bryt stared at him, wondering what he was thinking.

"Well...think about it," Hermione finally broke the silence, looking at Harry, "Please?"

Harry sat there for a moment, then gave a small nod. Hermione nodded in return and stood up.

"Well, I'm off to bed," she said, looking at Bryt, "Are you coming?"

"Yeah," Bryt said slowly, standing up and giving Ron a quick kiss on the cheek, "Night you two."

Bryt turned and followed Hermione up to their room, her mind still racing with memories of what happened over the past two years. She changed into her pajamas in a bit of a daze, then crawled into bed. She couldn't get to sleep, however, spending hours staring at the canopy above her bed and when she finally did drift off to sleep, she was plagued with nightmares.


	21. A Secret Meeting

The next two weeks passed in a haze of routine of classes, homework, and detentions for Bryt. Plus daily arguing with Ron once the cuts began to stay on the back of Bryt's hand. Each day, Ron would curse Umbridge while constantly insisting that Bryt and Harry needed to tell McGonagall, and each day, they both refused. It was a relief once Bryt's detentions were finally over, though it wasn't until the Monday after Bryt's final detention that the bleeding cuts had finally healed over fully—something else Ron kept complaining about. Still, the white lines of 'I must not commit violence' in Bryt's own handwriting stayed and Bryt was positive that the scars would never go away. With the detentions finally done, however, Bryt was able to put more time into her homework, as she was doing now in the library with her friends, trying to make their way through their latest Potions assignment.

"I was wondering," Hermione suddenly spoke up, not looking up from her work, "Whether you'd thought any more about Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry."

Bryt blinked at Hermione. It had been two weeks since the first, and only, time Hermione had made the suggestion. Until now, anyway. Bryt just hoped this time would go better than the last.

"'Course I have," Harry replied, "Can't forget it, can we, with that hag teaching us—"

"I meant about the idea we had," Hermione said, then frowned as Ron suddenly gave her a 'don't drag me into this' look, "All right, the idea _I_ had," she corrected, turning back to Harry, "About you teaching us."

Bryt looked over at Harry, bracing herself for him to lose his temper again—and get them thrown out of the library for making too much noise. Bryt stayed tense, watching Harry closely for a couple of minutes before he finally replied.

"Well, yeah," he said slowly, keeping his focus on his book, "I've thought about it a bit."

"And?"

"I dunno," Harry said, glancing over at Ron and Bryt.

"I thought it was a good idea from the start," Ron said and Bryt nodded in agreement, glad that Harry wasn't going to start yelling at them again.

Harry got an odd look on his face as he glanced between the three. Bryt wondered if he had been hoping they'd try to dismiss the idea.

"You did listen to what I said about a load of it being luck, didn't you?" he asked.

"Of course," Bryt said, "But you're still the best when it comes to Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Exactly," Hermione added, "You were the only one last year who could throw off the Imperious Curse completely—"

Bryt gave an involuntary shudder at the memory of what it was like to be under that particular curse.

"—You can produce a Patronus, you can do all sorts of stuff that full-grown wizards can't. Julio's told me a lot of things you've done he hasn't even learned yet, and he's now in his final year at Salem."

Harry gave Hermione a look that said he was thinking over what she had said.

"So?" Bryt asked after a couple of minutes, "What do you think?"

"I'll just be teaching you three, right?" Harry asked.

"Well," Hermione said slowly, "Now, don't go flying off the handle again, Harry, please...But I really think you ought to teach anyone who wants to learn. I mean, we're talking about defending ourselves against V-Voldemort. It doesn't seem fair if we don't offer the chance to other people."

"Yeah, but I doubt anyone except you three would want to be taught by me," Harry said after a minute, "I'm a nutter, remember?"

"I know for a fact my brothers and their friends will want to learn," Bryt said. She didn't like the idea of her brothers being prepared to fight, but she'd rather they know how to defend themselves than to be killed because she didn't take the chance to teach them. She'd just have to hope they'd never have to put these lessons to use.

"I think you'd be surprised how many other people would be interested in hearing what you've got to say," Hermione added, looking back at Harry, then leaned closer. Bryt and Ron had to lean forward as well to hear. "Look...you know the first weekend in October's a Hogsmeade weekend? How would it be if we tell anyone who's interested to meet us in the village and we can talk it over?"

"Why do we have to do it outside school?" Ron asked.

"Because I don't think Umbridge would be very happy if she found out what we were up to."

"No kidding," Bryt whispered, looking down at the scars on the back of her hand. She had a feeling if they were caught, there'd be even more scars there, and she wouldn't be the only one with them.

**xxxxx**

Hermione, Ron, and Bryt spent the next week-and-a-half trying to spread the word to students they knew would be interested in coming to the meeting in Hogsmeade. Considering her brothers and their friends were too young to go to Hogsmeade, Bryt told them that she'd give them information about it later.

The three also got in contact with practically the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, as well as Dean, Neville, Lavender, Parvati, and Ginny—Parvati said she'd tell her sister about the meeting, and Ginny said she'd tell her boyfriend and Luna the next time she saw them. Bryt had gotten in contact with the Hufflepuffs Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley, while Hermione said she talked with Hannah and Ernie, though another Hufflepuff, Zacharias Smith, had overheard—luckily, he seemed interested in the meeting as well. Bryt also went to tell Terry about the meeting—something Ron, oddly, insisted on coming along for—but it was unnecessary, as Terry told Bryt that Michael had already told him about it.

"Michael who?" Ron asked as he and Bryt had started back to the Gryffindor tower.

"Corner," Bryt answered, "I should have figured Terry'd already know, since Ginny said she'd tell Michael."

"Why would Ginny tell Michael anything?" Ron asked suspiciously. Bryt sighed.

"Because she's dating him," she answered.

"_What_?" Ron asked, coming to a stop and staring at Bryt, "My sister's—what do you mean she's dating him?"

Bryt rolled her eyes.

"I mean they're a couple," she said, crossing her arms over her chest, "Ginny's fourteen, Ron. Of course she'll start dating guys now. _We_ started dating at fourteen."

"Well, that's different!"

Bryt raised an eyebrow at Ron.

"What is your problem with other people dating?" Bryt asked, "You had this same issue a couple of years ago with me and Terry."

"Yeah, and look how that one turned out," Ron said. Bryt rolled her eyes.

"Sure, that ended badly," she said, "But that doesn't mean Ginny's relationship will go bad. C'mon, let's just get back to the common room."

Not wanting to argue about Ginny's love life anymore, Bryt turned and started off back down the hallway. Ron didn't seem ready to give up, however, as he matched his pace with Bryt's.

"I thought Ginny fancied Harry, though," he said.

"When she was eleven," Bryt pointed out, "A little girl crush thing, she's obviously grown out of it." Bryt sighed, brushing the strands of her headband back over her shoulder. "Ginny never told you because she knew you'd overreact. But Michael's a great guy, don't worry."

Ron didn't seem to hear Bryt as he kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the Gryffindor common room. Bryt rolled her eyes, deciding she'd just head Ron off if he tried to corner Ginny about her boyfriend—after all, it wasn't his business who Ginny dated. Luckily, Ron left Ginny alone, which was a relief to Bryt. She didn't want to have to get in the middle of an argument between her boyfriend and one of her friends.

When the Hogsmeade trip came, Bryt was ready for it. She bundled up for the cold October day before heading down with her friends, her hand wrapped around one of Ron's. They waited their turn as Filch checked off names on the list of students permitted to go to Hogsmeade and Bryt felt a bit creeped out as Filch leaned closer to them, sniffing. She was definitely eager to get out of the castle after that.

"Why was Filch sniffing you?" Ron asked Harry, sounding just as creeped as Bryt had been.

"I suppose he was checking for the smell of Dungbombs," Harry said with a laugh, "I forgot to tell you...That morning I wrote Snuffles, Filch barged into the Owlery, saying he'd been tipped off that I was ordering Dungbombs. Luckily, I had already sent off my letter."

Bryt rolled her eyes, but Hermione looked far too interested.

"He said he was tipped off you were ordering Dungbombs?" she asked, "But who had tipped him off?"

"Malfoy?" Bryt suggested, "Wouldn't put it past him."

"Yeah, he probably thought it'd be a laugh," Harry said with a shrug.

"Maybe..." Hermione replied, staring off in front of her. Harry, Bryt, and Ron exchanged confused looks, but dropped the subject.

"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked once they reached Hogsmeade, "The Three Broomsticks?"

"Oh, no," Hermione said, shaking her head, "No, it's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us in the Hog's Head, that's the other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit..._dodgy_...but students don't normally go there, so I don't think we'll be overheard."

As the four started through Hogsmeade, Bryt realized why very few went to the Hog's Head. The tavern was along a nearly-deserted road, and the building itself looked almost as if it had been abandoned for years. Bryt wondered if there were some people who thought the place _was_ actually closed down. Bryt tried not to look at the sign above the door that depicted a severed, bleeding head of a boar. She already didn't like this place.

"Well, come on," Hermione said, taking a deep breath. Harry gave a small nod and headed inside, while Bryt and the others followed.

The inside of the tavern seemed just as run-down as the outside. The place was dark, only lit by a few candles, and looked as if it hadn't been cleaned in years. The air held an odd odor that reminded Bryt of an animal that was in a desperate need of a bath. It seemed only three other were in the tavern that day—a couple of men in long, black cloaks with the hoods pulled up, and a woman who was just as obscured by a long, black veil.

"I don't know about this, Hermione..." Harry said quietly, then nodding to the veiled witch, "Has it occurred to you that Umbridge might be under that?"

"Umbridge is shorter than that woman," Hermione replied after taking a good, long look, "And anyway, even if Umbridge _does_ come in here, there's nothing she can do to stop us. I've double and triple-checked the school rules. We're not out-of-bounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and he said yes, but advised me strongly to bring our own glasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of about study groups and homework groups and they're definitely allowed. I just don't think it's a good idea of we _parade_ what we're doing."

"Especially since this ain't exactly a normal study group," Bryt pointed out.

A tall, grouchy-looking old man with long gray hair and beard came from the back room, looking over towards the quartet.

"What?" he asked sharply.

"Four butterbeers, please," Hermione said.

Harry offered to pay for the butterbeers, even though the bottles were very dusty and had rusted lids, then the four sat down at a table in the corner. Bryt pried the lid off hers and studied it closely, wanting to make sure she could get all the rust off the bottle before she felt it was safe enough to drink.

"You know what?" Ron whispered, glancing towards the bar, "We could order anything we liked in here, and I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try firewhisky—"

"_You are a prefect!_" Hermione hissed.

"But I'm not," Bryt said, "One drink wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

Hermione answered that with a glare and Bryt decided against trying anything alcoholic.

"So, who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked.

"Just a couple of people," Hermione said as she checked her watch. Bryt resisted the urge to roll her eyes. There were definitely more than 'a couple of people' coming.

As if on cue, the tavern's doors opened and, in groups of two and three, the people Bryt, Ron, and Hermione contacted were coming in—though there was extras. Bryt noticed Cho Chang had come with one of her friends, as well as Colin and Dennis Creevey—though she wondered how Dennis had managed to sneak into Hogsmeade. Bryt saw Ron glaring towards Terry and his friends, especially when he noticed Ginny was with them, and Bryt elbowed him in the side.

"A couple of people?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione in horror, "_A couple of people?_"

"A lot of people just seemed interested," Bryt said with a small grin.

Once everyone was seated and had a butterbeer, Bryt noticed they were all looking towards Harry. Suddenly, she wasn't too sure if this had been the best idea.

"What have you been telling people?" Harry whispered, looking between Bryt, Ron, and Hermione, "What are they expecting?"

"I've told you," Hermione said, "They just want to hear what you have to say. You don't have to do anything yet. I'll speak to them first."

Hermione slowly rose to her feet, clearing her throat. Everyone looked over at her, but kept glancing back towards Harry. Bryt wished they'd stop, she knew Harry couldn't have been liking this attention.

"Hi," Hermione said awkwardly, "Well, erm...well, you know why you're here. Erm...Well, Harry here had this idea—" Harry suddenly glared at Hermione and she straightened herself up some. "I mean, _I_ had the idea—that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts—and I mean really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us." Now that Hermione got going, her voice was stronger now, as if she had practiced this speech for months. "Because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts. I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands."

Hermione paused for a moment and Bryt looked over the group. They were still casting glances at Harry, though most of them did seem very interested in what Hermione was saying.

"And by that, I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly," Hermione went on, "Not just theory but the real spells—"

"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL too, though, I bet?" Michael Corner spoke up.

"Of course I do," Hermione answered, "But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because..." Hermione trailed off, glancing around. Finally, she took a deep breath and said the rest in a rush, "Because Lord Voldemort is back."

The crowds' reaction was a mix of shrieks, shudders, and flinching. Though once that passed, all heads turned towards Harry again. Bryt was starting to get annoyed over that. They were supposed to be here to plan a Defense Against the Dark Arts club, not stare at Harry.

"Well...that's the plan anyway," Hermione said and everyone turned back to her, "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to—"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who is back?" Smith asked loudly. Bryt glared over at him.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it—"

"You mean Dumbledore believes _him_," Smith gave a sharp nod towards Harry.

"Who're you?" Ron snapped.

"Zacharias Smith, and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes _him_ say You-Know-Who's back."

"That's not what we're here for," Bryt snapped, clenching her hands into fists. This blond idiot was quickly asking for a kick in the ass.

"It's okay, Bryt," Harry said. Bryt looked over at him, her anger subsiding some, as she noticed he was looking around at the group with an odd expression.

"What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" Harry asked, now focusing his gaze completely on Smith, "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

"All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts," Smith said, "He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know—"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry snapped and Bryt watched him closely, hoping he wouldn't start yelling again, "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

Harry glared at Hermione, who flushed and looked away. Still, no one left. They glanced around at each other, but all stayed in their seats.

"So," Hermione went on, getting the attention back to her, "So...Like I was saying...If you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to—"

"Is it true that you can produce a Patronus?" Susan asked, looking back at Harry. Several of the students started whispering with each other.

"Er...yeah," Harry said slowly.

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"Er...You don't know a Madam Bones, do you?"

Susan smiled and gave a nod. "She's my auntie. She told me about your hearing. So—is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes."

"Blimey, Harry! I never knew that!" Lee said, impressed.

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," Fred said, then looking at Harry, "She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," Harry muttered and Bryt gave a snort of agreement. Harry definitely didn't like attention.

"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" Terry asked, "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year."

Bryt gave Terry a surprised look. She had only ever been in Dumbledore's office once—and it had been under extremely serious circumstances during her second year. What in the world had Terry done that he had been there? And when did this happen that he never told Bryt about it—after all, except for a couple of months, the two had remained friends after their break-up.

"Er—yeah," Harry said awkwardly, obviously not wanting to talk about it, "Yeah, I did."

"And in our first year, he saved the Sorcerous Stone—"

"Sorcerer's," Hermione corrected Neville.

"Yeah, that, from You-Know-Who."

"And that's not to mention all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year," Cho said, a smile on her face and her gaze fixed on Harry—Bryt had noticed Cho had been staring at Harry far more than anyone else had, and Cho's look had been something far different than curiosity. "Getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things."

Bryt looked over at Harry and noticed he was looking like he was fighting hard not to start grinning himself. Bryt started smirking. Sometimes his crush on Cho was far too obvious.

"Look," Harry said finally, "I...I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest of anything, but...I had a lot of help with all that stuff..."

"Not with the dragon, you didn't," Michael said, obviously impressed, "That was a seriously cool bit of flying."

"Yeah, well—"

"And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer," Susan said.

"Okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is—"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any stuff?" Smith cut in.

"Here's an idea, why don't you shut your month?" Ron snapped.

"Agreed," Bryt added, glaring at Smith, her anger coming up again. She really didn't like this guy—she was wondering how a jerk like him ended up in Hufflepuff.

"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him," Smith replied, "And now he's telling us he can't really do any of it."

"That's not what he said," Fred said.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" George asked, pulling some type of object from one of his bags and Bryt had a feeling whatever it did was something nasty.

"Or any part of your body, really," Fred added, "We're not fussy where we stick this."

Bryt snorted as Smith eyed the object closely.

"Yes, well, moving on," Hermione said, casting Fred and George a dark look, "The point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

Hermione was answered by mutters of agreement, though Bryt noticed Smith didn't answer. He kept his arms crossed over his chest and was staring over at the object George was still holding.

"Right," Hermione said with a nod, a relieved look on her face, "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week—"

"Hang on," Angelina said, "We need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practices."

"No, nor with ours," Cho said.

"Nor ours," added Smith.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," Hermione said, looking annoyed, "But you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters."

"Though if Quidditch practices keep being canceled, Umbridge will know something is up," Bryt pointed out.

"Well, I personally think this is really important," Ernie Macmillan said loudly—Bryt wondered how he managed to stay quiet as long as he did. He was probably preparing a speech of his own or something, "Possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our OWLs!" Ernie looked around to see if anyone would protest—Bryt rolled her eyes—and when no one did, he went on. "I, personally, am at a lost to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period. Obviously they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells—"

"It's because the Ministry has this insane idea that Dumbledore's building an army from his students," Bryt said, "And that he'll use them again the Ministry."

"Well, that makes sense," Luna spoke up, "After all, Cornelius Fudge has his own private army."

"What?" Harry asked, confused, and Bryt almost laughed. As much as she liked Luna, she knew better than to believe half the stuff the girl said.

"Yes, he's got an army of heliopaths," Luna said with a small nod.

"No he hasn't," Hermione snapped.

"Yes he has."

"What are heliopaths?" Neville asked.

"They're spirits of fire," Luna said, her eyes widening, "Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of—"

"They don't exist, Neville," Hermione cut in.

"Oh yes they do!"

"I'm sorry, but where's the _proof_ of that?"

"There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you—"

"_Hem, hem_."

Bryt jumped and most everyone started looking around wildly, expecting Umbridge to be standing in the doorway. Then Bryt noticed that Ginny was smirking, her hand up to her mouth. Bryt couldn't help but laugh—she had forgotten how well Ginny could mimic voices.

"Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defense lessons?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, we were, you're right," Hermione said slowly.

"Well, once a week sounds cool," Lee said.

"As long as—"

"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," Hermione said, irritated, "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet..."

It didn't take long for them to realize they weren't going to settle that idea anytime soon. They finally agreed that they'd get word out where they would meet once the first date was set. Before they all could leave, however, Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, an odd look on her face that Bryt didn't like.

"I think everybody should write their name down," Hermione said slowly, "Just so we know who was here. But I also think..." Hermione paused, looking at the parchment, then back at the crowd, "I also think that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge—or anybody else—what we're up to."

Fred, George, and Lee signed instantly, but some of the others were starting to look wary.

"Er...Well, I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is," Smith said slowly. Bryt rolled her eyes. She would be surprised if Smith even showed up for one meeting.

"Well..." Ernie said slowly, "We are _prefects_. And if this list was found...I mean to say...you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out..."

"You're the one who said this'll be the most important thing we do all year," Bryt said sharply.

"Yes...Yes, I do believe that, it's just..."

"Ernie, do you really think I'd just leave that list lying around?" Hermione asked.

"No, no, of course not. I—yes, of course I'll sign."

After that, no one objected and soon everyone had signed their name to the parchment. Hermione folded it carefully and slipped it down into her bag, the odd look still on her face. Then, everyone slowly headed from the Hog's Head in twos and threes—much like they had come in. Bryt noticed Cho seemed to be finding any reason to stay behind, but her curly-haired friend became impatient and finally forced her to leave.

"Well, I think that went well," Hermione said as the four left the Hog's Head after they were sure everyone else was out of sight down the street.

"That Zacharias bloke's a wart," Ron said sourly.

"Tell me about it," Bryt said, rolling her eyes.

"He overheard me when I was talking to Ernie and Hannah, though," Hermione said, "And he seemed interested in coming, so what could I say? But the more people the better, really."

After that, the four's trip to Hogsmeade was basically the same as any other—though Bryt found herself a lot happier than usual. The idea that they were going to be learning to defend themselves—and right under Umbridge's nose—was satisfying. Bryt couldn't wait to find a place for them to have these lessons. She was eager to get started.


	22. A New Decree

Shortly after the Hogsmeade trip, Bryt was able to get word to both of her brothers about how the meeting went. Mike had been easy to get to, as he was in Gryffindor with Bryt, but Drew was harder. At least Bryt often went over to the Hufflepuff table to talk to her brother, so it wasn't an unusual sight to see her over at the Hufflepuff table for a few minutes nearly every day.

The idea of forming a secret meeting right under Umbridge's nose left Bryt in a good mood for the rest of the weekend, though that mood was ruined Monday morning. Bryt and Hermione were discussing what new types of clothing for Hermione to make for the house elves—the ones she made so far disappeared so fast—when a loud mechanical sound echoed through the stairway, the only warning they had to brace themselves as the stairs melted into a slide beneath their feet. Bryt and Hermione had gotten used to this over the past four years—it happened any time a boy tried to get up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Usually a guy who thought he could be clever enough to trick the spells somehow.

It became apparent who had tried to get up the stairs as they neared the end of the slide and could hear Ron.

"It's not fair!" he said, "Bryt and Hermione're allowed in our dormitory, how come we're not allowed—"

"Well, it's an old-fashioned rule," Hermione said as she and Bryt got to their feet, "But it says in Hogwarts, A History that the founders thought boys were less trustworthy than girls. Anyway, why were you trying to get in there?"

"To see you—look at this!" Ron grabbed onto Bryt and Hermione's arms, pulling them towards the notice board. Bryt pulled her arm from Ron's hand as she instantly noticed what Ron and Harry had been determined to show them. The entire notice board had been covered by a single sign:

**By Order of**

**The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts**

All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded.

An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.

Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).

No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge or approval of the High Inquisitor.

Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four._

Signed:

Dolores Jane Umbridge

HIGH INQUISITOR

"Someone's ran off to Umbridge," Bryt hissed, glaring at the notice, "Smith, maybe?"

"That's my thought," Ron said.

"They can't have," Hermione said simply. Bryt, Ron and Harry all looked over at her, doubtful.

"Hermione, there were quite a few people we don't really know who were at that meeting," Bryt said, "One of them could have—"

"I put a jinx on that piece of parchment we all signed," Hermione cut in, a look on her face saying she regretted the choice, "Believe me, if anyone's run off and told Umbridge, we'll know exactly who they are and they will regret it."

"What will happen to them?" Ron asked, sounding a little too eager.

"Well, put it this way," Hermione said darkly, "It'll make Eloise Midgen's acne look like a couple of cute freckles. Come on, let's get down to breakfast and see what others think...I wonder whether this has been put up in all the Houses?"

"I bet it has been," Harry said.

"Bryt!"

Bryt turned to see Mike and Natalie hurrying over to them, both looking worried.

"Don't worry," Bryt said in a whisper when they got closer, "We're still doing this. Right, Harry?" Bryt added, glancing to her friend.

"Right," he answered with a nod, a determined look on his face. Mike and Natalie both looked relieved.

"Listen, try to get the word around," Bryt said, "Be careful about it, though. Just tell people you already see daily—like Drew and his friends, and Dennis Creevey."

Mike made a face at the idea of willingly talking to one of the Creevey brothers and Natalie rolled her eyes at him.

"Mike, this is important," Bryt pointed out and Mike nodded.

"I know, I'll tell them," he said, "Come on, Natalie, maybe we can catch Drew at the Great Hall."

"Tell Drew to try and tell the other Hufflepuffs involved," Hermione said, "He knows which ones they are."

Mike and Natalie nodded, then headed off out of the room. Bryt looked at Hermione.

"Smart idea," she said as they headed out of the common room, "It'll be easier for them to get the word around than us."

Hermione nodded. "That's the reason I asked them," she said, "If they can get to them, it'll be better than the Hufflepuffs all trying to come to the Gryffindor table. We'll just have to watch for the Ravenclaws."

"I can do that," Bryt said, "I'll just make the excuse I'm saying hi to Terry. Either that or we can ask Ginny to head over to tell Michael."

Ron made a face at that, but he luckily kept quiet. It didn't take long to get the word around—and hopefully they didn't draw any attention to themselves. More bad news about the new decree, however, came when they were leaving the Great Hall to head to History of Magic. Angelina came running towards them just as they had reached the Great Hall doors.

"It's okay," Harry said as she came up, "We're still going to—"

"You realize she's including Quidditch in this?" Angelina cut in, "We have to go and ask permission to re-form the Gryffindor team!"

"_What_?" Harry and Bryt chorused. Gryffindor couldn't have a Quidditch team anymore? This was not going to end well.

"No way," Ron said, looking horrified of the idea of not getting to play Quidditch. Bryt couldn't blame him.

"You read the sign, it mentions teams, too!" Angelina said, then turned back to Harry, "So listen, Harry...I am saying this for the last time...Please, _please_ don't lose your temper with Umbridge again or she might not let us play anymore!"

"Okay, okay," Harry raised his hands defensively, "Don't worry, I'll behave myself."

Angelina nodded and hurried off, looking beside herself. Bryt has a huge fan of Quidditch and would be horrified if the Gryffindor team couldn't get reformed, but she thought Angelina was overreacting. She was acting like no Quidditch would be the end of the world or something.

"Bet Umbridge will be in History of Magic," Ron said as they started for the class, "She hasn't inspected Binns yet...Bet you anything she's there..."

"I doubt she'll ever inspect Binns," Bryt said, and it seemed Bryt might be right. Umbridge wasn't in History of Magic.

Bryt thought the class would be another boring lesson and started her usual habit of playing hangman on a piece of parchment with Ron, ignoring glares they got from Hermione.

"_What_?" Harry hissed about halfway through the class. Bryt jumped and looked over to see he was staring at Hermione.

Hermione pointed towards the window and Bryt looked over, her eyes widening. Hedwig was sitting in the window, staring at them intently through the glass. Bryt couldn't understand why Hedwig was here instead of delivering a letter at breakfast. Harry quickly got out of his seat, staying at a crouch as he made his way to the window, got Hedwig, and came back to his seat. Bryt gasped the second she saw Hedwig, a sickening feeling rushing through her.

"Her wing!" Bryt whispered, staring at how the wing seemed bent at an odd angle, "What happened to her?"

"I don't know," Harry whispered. He reached to touch the wing, but Hedwig jumped back slightly and seemed to glare at him. Harry gently picked up Hedwig, holding her behind his back as he stood up.

"Professor Binns, I'm not feeling well," Harry said loudly.

Binns looked up, blinking a few times before looking at Harry.

"Not feeling well?" he asked, as if he thought he hadn't heard Harry correctly.

"Not feeling well at all," Harry said, "So I think I'll need to go to the hospital wing."

"Yes...Yes, hospital wing...well, off you go, then, Perkins."

Harry hurried from the room and a couple of people began whispering, though soon went back to their half-asleep dazes. Bryt, Ron, and Hermione, however, were very alert. Bryt had a sinking feeling about the whole thing. She was quite sure that the letter Hedwig had was from Sirius—and someone had attacked Hedwig on her flight to Hogwarts. Someone who was determined to intercept any mail for Harry.

Harry hadn't returned to class by the time the bell rang. Bryt, Ron, and Hermione headed out into the courtyard to wait on Harry.

"Someone had to attack Hedwig," Bryt whispered, tightening her robes around her against the chilly air. Hermione and Ron nodded in agreement.

"Who do you—" Hermione started, but cut herself off as they noticed Harry coming over towards them.

"Is Hedwig okay?" Hermione and Bryt asked together.

"Where did you take her?" Ron asked.

"To Grubbly-Plank," Harry replied, "And I met McGonagall...Listen, she warned me that the communications in and out of Hogwarts could be watched..."

Bryt glanced over at Hermione and Ron, their suspicions conformed.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Well, we were just talking about that," Bryt said, dropping her voice to avoid being overheard, "Hedwig's never been hurt on a flight. We're sure someone attacked her to get that letter."

"Who's it from, anyway?" Ron asked.

"Snuffles," Harry answered, holding out the note.

"'Same time, same place'? Does he mean the fire in the common room?"

"Has to be," Bryt said, "Did anyone read the letter?"

"Doubt it. It was still sealed, besides no one would know what it meant if they didn't know where we'd spoken to him before, would they?"

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly as the bell rang and they started for Potions, "It wouldn't be exactly difficult to reseal the scroll by magic...And if anyone's watching the Floo Network...but I don't really see how we can warn him not to come without _that_ being intercepted too!"

"Times like this I wish we had another of those two-way diaries," Bryt said as they came closer to the Potions classroom. Bryt started glaring when she noticed the Slytherins grouped around Malfoy, who was waving around a piece of parchment.

"Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straightaway, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry...It'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing, won't it?"

Bryt's glare tightened as she gripped her hands into fists, wanting nothing more than to hit Malfoy in the face again. She didn't care how many scars she'd end up with—it would be worth it to shut Malfoy up.

"Don't rise," Hermione hissed next to them, "It's what he wants..."

"What he wants is a good kick in the ass," Bryt muttered.

"I mean," Malfoy went on, looking straight towards them now, "If it's a question of influence with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance...From what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years...And as for Potter, my father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungo's...Apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic."

Bryt started forward, but she stumbled to the side as someone pushed past her. At first she thought it was Harry or Ron, but was shocked to see Neville try to throw himself at Malfoy. Harry and Ron grabbed onto Neville to try and pull the boy back. Bryt just stared at them. It was completely unlike Neville to get into a fight—especially trying to get into one with Malfoy. He usually got embarrassed or upset when someone threw insults at him—not try to attack them.

"Not...funny...don't...Mungo's...show...him..." Neville was muttering, glaring at Malfoy and trying to pull away from Harry and Ron. Bryt couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with him.

Unfortunately for them, Snape came out of his classroom, and looked straight towards Harry and Ron struggling to hold Neville back.

"Fighting, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom?" Snape asked, "Ten points from Gryffindor. Release Longbottom or it will be detention. Inside, all of you."

"You okay?" Bryt asked Neville, though he didn't seem to hear as he grabbed his bag and headed into the classroom.

"What in the name of Merlin was _that_ about?" Ron asked in a whisper as they came into the classroom.

"I don't know," Bryt replied, looking over at Neville as they sat down. She'd never seen Neville react so strongly to something before—well, except for the year before when he had been so terrified in Defense Against the Dark Arts when the fake Moody showed them the Unforgivable Curses.

Bryt didn't have much more time to think about what was wrong with Neville, however. She became completely distracted when she noticed who was in the classroom with them.

"You will notice that we have a guest today," Snape said, motioning to where Umbridge was sitting in one corner.

Bryt started grinning as she looked at her friends. This was going to be an interesting class. The only problem was choosing who she wanted to win in this little battle—maybe Snape. After all, she hated him and didn't trust him at all, but he did actually _teach_ them instead of had them sit and read a book all day.

"We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today," Snape said, "You will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson, if correctly made, they should have matured well over the weekend—instructions are on the board. Carry on."

Bryt immediately got to work, working hard to keep her attention on her potion—she was determined to keep up her best grades in Potions. She kept glancing out of the corner of her eye to keep an eye on Umbridge, however. The woman spent the first half of the class just sitting in her corner, writing on her clipboard. Finally, she got to her feet and started towards Snape. Bryt started grinning, turning back to her potion, but kept her ears open to hear their conversation. It was a stroke of luck that Snape was already close by, checking out Dean's potion.

"Well, this class seems fairly advanced for their level," Umbridge said to Snape to get his attention, "Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus."

"Of course they would," Bryt muttered under her breath. The Ministry disapproved of anything that was logical.

"Now...how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" Umbridge asked.

"Fourteen years," Snape replied shortly.

"You applied first for Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?"

"Yes."

"But you were unsuccessful?"

"Obviously."

Bryt gave a snort that she quickly tried to cover with a cough. Luckily, Snape didn't seem to notice—at least, Bryt hoped he didn't notice. She didn't want to risk looking over to see.

"And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?" Umbridge asked.

"Yes," Snape replied shortly and Bryt couldn't help but notice he sounded like he was fighting to hold back anger. Though she was extremely curious about why Snape was so determined to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" Umbridge asked.

"I suggest you ask him."

"Oh I shall," Umbridge said sweetly and Bryt had a feeling she was giving that annoying smile again.

"I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked.

"Oh, yes. Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of the teachers'—er—backgrounds."

_'So you can weed out people you just don't like or don't agree with you,'_ Bryt thought bitterly.

A strong smell of burnt rubber filled the room and Bryt gagged, looking next to her to see Harry's potion had gone very wrong.

"No marks again, then, Potter," Snape said sharply, using the Vanishing spell on Harry's ruined potion, "You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?"

"Yes," Harry said shortly. Bryt felt sorry for him—He was going to have a busy night.

"You can always skip Divination," Bryt told Harry as they headed to lunch when class ended, "That class is worthless, anyway."

"Bryt, Harry can't skive off Divination!" Hermione said sharply.

"Hark who's talking," Ron said, "You walked out of Divination, you hate Treloony!"

Bryt choked on a laugh, clamping her hand over her mouth. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked over at her with confused looks.

"Nothing," Bryt said quickly, trying to fight back her fit of laughter as they headed into the Great Hall. 'Treloony' had always been Bryt's nickname for the Divination teacher. She had never heard any of her friends use it before, so to suddenly hear the name come from Ron had been an amusing surprise.

"Well, Harry can't skive off Divination," Hermione said again, "He's already missed most of History of Magic, I don't think he ought to miss anything else today."

Bryt sighed. Hermione had a point there. Though Divination turned out to be not quite as dull. Trelawney was in a very foul mood—it turned out she was now on probation. Bryt wasn't surprised, but she still couldn't help but feel sorry for the Divination teacher. She didn't really like Trelawney, but she didn't hate the woman, either. Hopefully, Trelawney would be able to keep her job—though knowing Umbridge, Bryt doubted it. Maybe Dumbledore would be able to step in. Though Bryt had a feeling it wouldn't be long before the Ministry to create another Decree that gave Umbridge the ability to take complete control of Hogwarts from Dumbledore.

The day got worse that afternoon. When Bryt and her friends reached the common room after dinner, Angelina found them to tell Harry and Ron that Umbridge told her she 'needed time to consider' before reinstating the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Bryt knew Umbridge was going to prolong keeping the Gryffindors from playing Quidditch as long as possible.

"Look on the bright side," Hermione said as they sat down at their usual spot near the fireplace, "At least now you'll have time to do Snape's essay!"

Bryt stared at Hermione as if she were insane.

"That's a bright side, is it?" Harry asked sharply, "No Quidditch and extra Potions?"

Harry sat to work on his essay and Bryt started to offer to help him, but stopped herself after the dark look she got from Hermione. It was a good thing she decided not to help, however. Fred and George decided that they were going to demonstrate one of their Skiving Snackboxes—one that made the eater vomit. Listening to them continuously vomiting, and having the smell periodically waft through the room, kept making Bryt feel extremely nauseous herself. Bryt leaned back on the couch next to Ron, closing her eyes and trying to tune out the noise in the common room.

She had apparently dozed off because the next thing she knew, Ron was elbowing her in the side. Bryt jerked upright, then noticed he was pointing towards the fire. Bryt looked around, noticing the common room was empty now, and now Sirius's head was floating in the flames of the fireplace. Bryt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all grouped around the fire—Hermione had to grab Crookshanks to keep him from getting too close to the flames.

"How're things?" Sirius asked.

"Not that good," Harry said, "The Ministry's forced through another decree, which means we're not allowed to have Quidditch teams—"

"Or secret Defense Against the Dark Arts groups?" Sirius cut in with a grin.

Bryt blinked at Sirius, confused.

"How'd you..." Bryt trailed off and Sirius's grin grew.

"You want to choose your meeting places more carefully," he said, "The Hog's Head, I ask you..."

"Well, it was better than the Three Broomsticks!" Hermione said, "That's always packed with people—"

"Which means you'd have been harder to overheard," Sirius said, "You've got a lot to learn, Hermione."

"Who overheard us?" Harry asked.

"Mundungus," Sirius replied with a laugh, "He was the witch under the veil."

"That was Mundungus?" Harry and Bryt asked together.

"What was he doing in the Hog's Head?" Harry continued.

"What do you think he was doing? Keeping an eye on you, of course."

"I'm still being followed?" Harry asked and Bryt glanced at him cautiously. It sounded like his anger was starting to surface again. The last thing they needed was for Harry to blow up at them again.

"Yeah, you are," Sirius said, "And just as well, isn't it, if the first thing you're going to do on your weekend off is to organize an illegal defense group."

Though as Sirius said it, he sounded proud of them. Bryt bit on her lip slightly. The idea that Sirius was so approving of their plans was a bit discouraging—no matter how much she knew they had to do this.

"Why was Dung hiding from us?" Ron asked, "We'd've liked to've seen him."

_'Speak for yourself,'_ Bryt thought, but kept her mouth shut. She didn't exactly like Mundungus much—probably because he was basically a criminal.

"He was banned from the Hog's Head twenty years ago," Sirius said, "And that barman's got a long memory. We lost Moody's spare Invisibility Cloak when Sturgis was arrested, so Dung's been dressing as a witch a lot lately. Anyway...First of all, Ron—I've been sworn to pass on a message from your mother."

Ron didn't look too pleased about that.

"She says on no account what-so ever are you to take part in an illegal secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group. She says you'll be expelled for sure and your future will be ruined. She says there will be plenty of time to learn how to defend yourself later and that you are too young to be worrying about that right now. She also advices Harry, Hermione, and Bryt not to proceed with the group, though she accepts that she has no authority over them and simply begs them to remember that she has their best interests at heart. She would have written all this to you, but if the owl had been intercepted you'd all have been in real trouble, and she can't say it for herself because she's on duty tonight."

"Doing what?" Bryt and Ron asked, eager for any information they could get about what the Order was up to.

"Never you mind, just stuff for the Order," Sirius said, "So it's fallen to me to be the messenger and make sure you tell her I passed it all on, because I don't think she trusts me to."

Bryt looked over at Ron, who was staring down at a hole in the rug he was steadily making bigger. She had a wave of understanding for what Ron was probably thinking. His mother was disapproving of something Ron was determined to do—something he knew he _had_ to do. It reminded Bryt of the fact her own mother now seemed to disprove of anything magical.

"So you want me to say I'm not going to take part in the defense group?" Ron asked finally.

"Me? Certainly not!" Sirius said, looking as if he thought Ron had lost his mind, "I think it's an excellent idea!"

"You do?" Harry asked.

"Of course I do! D'you think your father and I would've lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?"

Bryt tensed slightly. Why did Sirius constantly have to bring up Harry's father? Almost every conversation they had, Sirius was comparing Harry to James Potter and the things they did when they were in Hogwarts. Harry wasn't his father.

"But last term, all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks—"

"Last year all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry! This year we know that there's someone outside Hogwarts who'd like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves probably is a very good idea!"

"And if we do get expelled?" Hermione asked, staring intently at Sirius.

"Hermione, this whole thing was your idea!" Harry said.

"I know it was...I just wondered what Sirius thought."

"Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue."

"Hear, hear," Harry and Ron chorused. Bryt nodded a bit—she knew they needed to know how to defend themselves, but Sirius being so eager about it made Bryt feel a bit unsure about the idea. She was going to have to try and ignore it, however.

"So," Sirius went on, "How are you organizing this group? Where are you meeting?"

"We don't know," Bryt said.

"How about the Shrieking Shack?" Sirius suggested.

"That's an idea!" Ron said, looking pleased with the thought. Hermione, however, made a disagreeing noise.

"Well, Sirius," Hermione said, "It's just that there were only four of you meeting at the Shrieking Shack when you were at school. And all of you could transform into animals and I suppose you could all could have squeezed under a single Invisibility Cloak if you'd wanted to. But there are thirty-four of us and none of us is an Animagus, so we wouldn't need so much an Invisibility Cloak as an Invisibility Marquee—"

"Fair point," Sirius cut in, frowning, "Well, I'm sure you'll come up with somewhere...There used to be a pretty roomy secret passageway behind the big mirror on the fourth floor, you might have enough space to practice jinxes in there—"

"Fred and George told me it's blocked," Harry said, "Caved in or something."

"Oh...Well, I'll have to think and get back to—" Sirius cut off, suddenly looking tense. Bryt tensed herself, having a bad feeling about this as Sirius's head turned, staring into the back of the fireplace.

"Sirius?" Harry asked slowly, but Sirius suddenly disappeared from the flames.

"Why did he—"

A fiery hand suddenly appeared where Sirius's head had been. Hermione gasped as the four jumped to their feet, stumbling over themselves to take off towards the stairs—Harry and Ron to the boys' dormitories and Bryt and Hermione towards the girls'. Bryt didn't dare look back as she and Hermione rushed up the stairway. She knew exactly whose hand it was in the fireplace—and she knew they had just narrowly been avoided being caught doing something that would have definitely gotten them expelled.


	23. The First Practice

Bryt and her friends didn't get a chance to talk about what happened until Charms class the next day. The class was always noisy with the sounds of people talking and practicing their spells—today they were practicing a Silencing Charm on animals—either a crow or bullfrog. All the noise of the animals, plus people talking, they were sure not to be overheard. Now that Bryt thought about it, she realized they should have made the connection much sooner and would have known it would have been safer for the Hogsmeade meeting to be in The Three Broomsticks.

"Umbridge has to be reading your mail," Hermione said, catching her bullfrog before it could jump off her desk, "There's no other explanation."

"You think Umbridge attacked Hedwig?" Harry asked.

"Bet you she did," Bryt said, pointing her wand at her crow, "_Silencio_!"

The crow just continued to caw, however, and Bryt sighed. Third try and still nothing—at least it wasn't crying louder like with some of the students in the room.

"Bryt, try a sharp jab with your wand," Hermione said, then looked back at Harry, "I've been suspecting this ever since Filch accused you of ordering Dungbombs, because it seemed such a stupid lie. I mean, once your letter had been read, it would have been quite clear you weren't ordering them, so you wouldn't have been in trouble at all—it's a bit of a feeble joke, isn't it? But then I thought, what if somebody just wanted an excuse to read your mail? Well then, it would be a perfect way for Umbridge to manage it—tip off Filch, let him do the dirty work and confiscate the letter, then either find a way of stealing it from him or else demand to see it—"

"Filch'd give it over eagerly," Bryt cut in, trying Hermione's trick of jabbing her wand, "_Silencio_!"

Bryt stared in surprise as the crow suddenly went silent. No matter how many times it opened its beak, no noise came out. Occasionally, Bryt did have a spell that she caught onto quickly, but it still took her off-guard.

"It was a very close call last night," Hermione said, easily silencing her own bullfrog, "I just wonder if Umbridge knows how close it was."

"If she'd caught Snuffles..." Hermione said slowly.

"He'd probably be back in Azkaban this morning," Harry said.

"And it'd be front-page news on the _Daily Prophet_," Bryt added as Harry's Silencing charm backfired, causing his bullfrog to start making a high-pitched whistling noise. Hermione quickly pointed her own wand at the bullfrog.

"_Silencio_!" Hermione said, and the bullfrog stopped making the noise, now glaring at Hermione. Bryt couldn't help but grin at the frog's look.

"Well, he mustn't do it again, that's all," Hermione said, "I just don't know how we're going to let him know. We can't send him an owl."

"I don't reckon he'll risk it again," Ron said, "He's not stupid, he knows she nearly got him."

_'I really hope you're right,'_ Bryt thought, but kept herself from saying it out loud. So far it seemed only Hermione agreed with her about Sirius being reckless and Bryt didn't want to start an argument.

Bryt looked over at Ron, who was having trouble with his own crow. Each time he tried, the crow just became louder and louder. Bryt finally had to use the charm herself and Ron gave her an offended look.

"I could have gotten it eventually," he said testily.

"After making half the class deaf," Bryt replied, "Just keep practicing. Try Hermione's tip, using a quick jab."

Bryt demonstrated with her wand, but Ron still didn't have much luck with the spell. Neither did Harry and they both ended up with extra homework when the class ended and the four started through the castle for their break. Thanks to the flood-worthy downpour outside, students were allowed to remain inside the castle. Bryt and her friends found a crowded classroom on the first floor and made their way to the back corner of the room, trying to avoid ink pellets that Peeves was dropping on the students. As soon as they were in their seats, Angelina came up towards them.

"I've got permission! To re-form the Quidditch team!"

"Excellent!" Bryt, Harry, and Ron chorused.

"Yeah, I went to McGonagall," Angelina said with a grin, "And I think she might have appealed to Dumbledore—anyway, Umbridge had to give in. Ha! So I want you two—" she looked at Harry and Ron at this, "—down at the pitch at seven o'clock tonight, all right, because we've got to make up time, you realize we're only three weeks away from our first match?"

Angelina didn't wait for a reply as she turned and made her way back through the crowd. Bryt glanced at the window, then back at Ron and Harry.

"If that keeps up," she said, motioning to the downpour, "I'm not coming to watch you practice."

"Don't blame you," Harry said.

Bryt looked over at Hermione and noticed she seemed zoned out, staring off towards the window, but her eyes were unfocused and her hand was grasping her book-shaped locket around her neck.

"You okay?" Bryt asked.

"Just thinking..." Hermione replied quietly, barely heard over the crowd around them.

"About Snuffles?" Harry asked.

"No...not exactly...More...wondering...I suppose we're doing the right thing...I think...aren't we?"

Bryt, Harry, and Ron gave each other confused looks.

"Well, that clears things up," Ron said sarcastically and Bryt hit him upside the head, gaining a glare from her boyfriend.

Hermione looked over at them, blinking for a second.

"I was just wondering whether we're doing the right thing," Hermione said, "Starting this Defense Against the Dark Arts group."

"Of course we are," Bryt said quickly and Hermione looked over at Bryt now.

"After Snuffles..." she started slowly.

"But he's all for it!" Harry cut in as Bryt instantly knew what was going on. Hermione was doubting the defense group because Sirius had approved of it.

"Listen, Hermione," Bryt said, "I agree with you, but I also think that we _have_ to learn to protect ourselves. We're doing the right thing."

Hermione stared intently at Bryt, still gripping the locket around her neck.

"I hope you're right," she finally said, looking back out the window again.

_'So do I,'_ Bryt thought, staring out the window herself. She had to believe they were doing the right thing here. Voldemort was out there somewhere, waiting. They _needed_ to know how to defend themselves.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

"I've found a place for us to have the first meeting."

Bryt looked up at Harry in surprise when he sat down across from her at breakfast the next morning.

"You what?" Bryt asked.

"I found a place for us to meet," Harry whispered again, "Well, Dobby found it. He told me about it last night when he brought Hedwig back."

"Is she okay?" Bryt and Hermione asked together. Harry nodded.

"She's fine," he said, "But listen, Dobby told me about this room up on the seventh floor, along this corridor with a tapestry of some guy trying to teach trolls ballet. He says the room's called the Room of Requirement—it only shows up when people need it and there's not many teachers aware of it, either."

"Are you sure about this?" Bryt asked, "I mean, Dobby's help has never really paid off before."

"This isn't just some mad idea of Dobby's," Harry replied, "Dumbledore mentioned the room during the Yule Ball last year, remember?"

Bryt made a face, trying to think back. It took a moment, then she suddenly remembered Dumbledore had mentioned how he had found a room full of toilets once when he was in desperate need of a bathroom.

"Oh yeah, he did," Bryt said slowly.

"Well, if Dumbledore knows about the room, then it's fine," Hermione added with a nod.

They spent the day between classes trying to get word to all the people whose names were on the parchment, scheduling a meeting for eight o'clock that night. Then when seven-thirty came, Bryt headed out of the common room with Harry, Ron, and Hermione to check out the room before the rest got there. They relied on Harry's map of Hogwarts, making sure that they wouldn't run into any teachers on their way to the corridor Harry had mentioned.

"Okay," Harry whispered once they stopped in front of the comical dancing trolls tapestry, "Dobby said to walk past this bit of wall three times, concentrating hard on what we want."

Bryt nodded and started pacing back and forth, thinking hard.

_'We need a place to train,'_ she thought, _'A place to learn how to defend ourselves. A place where we can practice in secret.'_

"Harry!" Hermione suddenly said.

Bryt stopped and stared at the empty wall across from the tapestry—only the wall was no longer empty. A door had appeared there and Bryt exchanged a wary look with Ron. Even though she knew Dumbledore knew of this room, she still wasn't completely sure if the whole situation could be trusted—after all, Hogwarts did have a few 'tricky' areas. Harry seemed fine with the room, however, as he quickly entered. Bryt took a deep breath and followed.

Bryt was instantly put at ease, extremely impressed with the room. Dark Detectors lay on shelves in one area of the room, cushions were piled near it, and there were several bookshelves lined with books on ways to defend oneself against the Dark Arts.

"These will be good when we practice Stunning," Ron said, nudging a cushion with his foot.

"As long as people actually aim for the cushions when they fall," Bryt said with a smirk, remembering how practicing Stunning had gone for them the year before when helping Harry train for the Triwizard Tournament.

No surprise to any of them, Hermione was most excited over the books. It wasn't even a full minute before she had one off the shelves and was sitting on a cushion, reading it intently. Bryt and Ron exchanged smirks as there was a knock on the door. They looked over to see Ginny, Neville, Dean, Lavender, and Parvati coming in, all of them seeming impressed with the room.

"Whoa," Dean said, "What is this place?"

"The Room of Requirement," Bryt answered as more people began filing in. Bryt and Ron took two cushions next to each other as they waited, watching as the room slowly filled up. When Bryt's brothers came in with their friends, the twins waved enthusiastically at Bryt before sitting in a small group—Bryt expected them to stay closer together considering they were definitely the youngest. They were a group of second years in a room full of teenagers.

"Well," Harry said awkwardly once everyone was in the room, "This is the place we've found for practices, and you've—er—obviously found it okay."

"It's fantastic!" Cho said and Bryt smirked as she noticed Harry looked far too pleased.

"It's bizarre," Fred said, then turning to George, "We once hid from Filch in here, remember? But it was just a broom cupboard then."

"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" Dean asked suddenly, pointing to the table of Sneakoscopes and some type of mirror showing shadowy, indistinguishable figures—Bryt had no idea what it was or how it worked.

"Dark Detectors," Harry said, moving over to the table, "Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled..."

Harry stared intently at the mirror for a second before turning back to the group.

"Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and—" Harry cut himself off suddenly, staring at Hermione. "What, Hermione?"

Bryt glanced over and saw Hermione was sitting as straight as she could on her cushion, her hand in the air as if this were a class.

_'Well, in a way, it is,'_ Bryt thought with a grin.

"I think we ought to elect a leader," Hermione said simply.

"Harry's leader," Cho replied sharply, looking at Hermione as if she were insane. Bryt suddenly had a feeling that Harry's crush on Cho might not be all that one-sided. Bryt grinned a little, hoping the best for Harry.

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly," Hermione said, "It makes it formal and gives him authority. So—everyone who thinks Harry ought to be leader?"

Bryt raised her hand, as did everyone else in the room. Bryt wasn't surprised to see Smith seemed very reluctant about it, however.

"Er—thanks," Harry said slowly, looking even more embarrassed now, then as Hermione shot her hand in the air again, "_What_, Hermione?"

"I also think we ought to have a name," Hermione said with a grin, "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

_'Hermione's put a little too much thought into this,'_ Bryt thought.

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" Angelina asked.

"Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?" Fred put in and Bryt snorted.

"I was thinking more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside of meetings," Hermione said, shooting Fred a nasty look.

"The Defense Association?" Cho suggested, "The DA for sure, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the DA's good," Ginny spoke up, "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"

"I like that," Bryt said with a nod, "It's perfect."

"All in favor of the DA?" Hermione asked, standing up and looking around as practically everyone raised their hands. Hermione nodded, pinning the list of names to the wall and writing 'DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY' across the top of it before sitting back down.

"Right," Harry said slowly, "Shall we get practicing then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is _Expelliarmus_, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful—"

"Oh please," Smith snapped and Bryt felt the returning urge to hit him, "I don't think _Expelliarmus_ is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

"I've used it against him," Harry said, "It saved my life last June."

Bryt glanced over at Harry before glaring back at Smith who, luckily, decided to keep quiet.

"But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave," Harry went on. Smith stayed in his seat, though he gave Harry a reproachful look.

"Okay," Harry said, turning back to the rest of the group—Bryt wondered how he was dealing with all this pressure. She knew she'd hate to be in his shoes right now. "I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice."

Bryt got up, pairing with Ron while Hermione paired with Neville. Bryt looked over to her brothers—she wasn't surprised to see Drew forming a group of three with Owen and Kevin while Mike paired with Natalie. She also wasn't surprised that they already knew how to use _Expelliarmus_ considering they had the fake Moody as their first year teacher.

The first half-hour passed by quickly. Bryt and Ron seemed equally matched—Bryt was able to disarm him just as many times as he disarmed her. Bryt used the times Ron was fetching his wand to glance across the room and check on how her brothers were doing—noticing that at first they seemed horrible with the spell, but Bryt was delighted to see they improved quickly, as well as their friends.

Bryt just hoped all this practice would pay off, especially for her. She knew no matter how good she was it would be a lot different if she was in any situation where she had to put it to use—and Bryt didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to that. She knew she had a bad habit of freezing up when she was frightened. Something she knew would get her killed if she didn't find a way to push through it. Bryt would just have to hope for the best if that type of situation ever came up.

Towards the end of the practice, Bryt was heading off to get her wand when she noticed Harry was talking with Cho, who seemed to be laughing about something Harry just said. Bryt grinned as she turned to head back to Ron—maybe Harry would get up the nerve to ask Cho out soon. He definitely needed something normal—as in having a girlfriend—in his life right now.

"Hey Harry, have you checked the time?" Hermione called from nearby.

Bryt looked at her own watch and swallowed. It was ten minutes past curfew—they needed to get out quickly and hope no one would get caught. Harry pulled out a whistle, giving it a sharp blow to get everyone's attention.

"Well, that was pretty good," Harry said, looking around the room. "But we've overrun, we'd better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?"

"Sooner!" Dean said and Bryt couldn't help but agree—she was enjoying the DA.

"The Quidditch season's about to start, we need team practices, too," Angelina said.

"Let's say next Wednesday night, then," Harry said, "And we can decide on additional meetings then...Come on, we'd better get going."

Harry used the Marauder's Map to make sure the coast was clear and let the people out in groups of twos and threes until only he, Ron, Hermione, and Bryt were left. Then, they glanced around the room and headed out themselves.

"Well, I really enjoyed that," Bryt said, looping her arms around one of Ron's, "I think most everyone else did, too, and it was great seeing how well my brothers were doing."

"Except the time Mike set Natalie's robes on fire," Ron said and Bryt laughed.

"Well, everyone makes mistakes," she said, "I can't wait for the next meeting. What're you going to try next, Harry?"

Though Harry didn't answer, his gaze set ahead of them, an odd look on his face. Bryt shook her head with a grin when she realized what that look was and she became quite sure Harry's thoughts were on a certain black-haired Ravenclaw. Bryt turned back to Ron, deciding to change the subject to Quidditch and what he thought their chances were of winning their first match. Hermione didn't seem too pleased with this conversation, but she didn't say anything as they continued on to the Gryffindor common room.


	24. A Bad Game

The DA meetings soon became Bryt's favorite time of the week and it was amazing to see how well much everyone was improving. Even Neville was able to use the Disarming Charm nearly perfectly, and Bryt made a mental note to try and stay on Parvati's good side after the girl destroyed a table with a well-placed Reductor Curse.

Hermione had figured out a way of getting the word around for the DA meetings. She cast some type of charm on fake Galleons and when Harry wrote the date on his own Galleon, it would appear on the others where the serial number should be. A lot of the members of the DA were extremely impressed with this—especially Bryt. In an attempt to not confuse her fake Galleon with her real money, Bryt poked a small hole in hers and fixed it onto a small chain that she hooked to one of her pants' belt loops. If anyone asked, Bryt would simply say the Galleon was a lucky charm—and considering she already wore a lucky bracelet, the excuse would be believable.

When not working on her homework or participating in DA meetings, Bryt watched the Gryffindor Quidditch practices. As the first match—which would be Gryffindor against Slytherin—grew closer, these practices were nearly every day, which meant Bryt was starting to fall as behind on her homework as Harry and Ron were. Something Hermione criticized nearly daily and insisted Bryt take her homework down to the Quidditch pitch.

Ron was improving greatly with each practice, though his nerves were obviously getting the better of him with the taunts from Slytherin. Bryt tried her hardest to ignore them and keep encouraging Ron, but very little seemed to help. When the first match came in November, Ron looked almost sick as Bryt sat next to him for breakfast. Bryt couldn't help but wonder if she saw the Slytherins' badges—crowns with the words "Weasley is Our King" on them. Hermione and Ginny had to physically restrain Bryt to keep her from heading over and ripping the badge off Malfoy's shirt.

"You'll be fine, Ron," Bryt said encouragingly as she picked up a piece of bacon, "You've been great during the practices. You'll just have to pretend there's not anyone in the crowds."

"Easy for you to say," Ron muttered weakly.

"Hello."

Bryt looked up, then choked on her bacon. Luna had come over and was wearing a hat with a life-size lion head on top of it. Bryt had to wonder how the girl was able to balance the thing—and how heavy it had to be.

"I'm supporting Gryffindor," Luna said, pointing at her hat, "Look what it does..."

Luna took out her wand and poked at the lion's head, which immediately opened its mouth and gave a roar that caused Bryt to jump.

"It's good, isn't it?" Luna asked with a grin, "I wanted to have it chewing a serpent to represent Slytherin, you know, but there wasn't time. Anyway...Good luck, Ronald!"

Luna went away and Bryt was fighting back a laugh. Luna was definitely one of a kind—and in a very good way. Angelina came by shortly after, telling Harry and Ron to hurry up and come down to the pitch. Bryt and Harry tried more to get Ron to eat anything, but after having no luck, Harry said it was time for him and Ron to head down. Bryt leaned over, kissing Ron and grinning at him again.

"You'll be great," she said, "Good luck."

Though Ron still seemed in an odd daze when he left with Harry and Bryt gave a sigh, slipping off her bracelet and playing with it in her hands.

"I really hope he'll do okay," Bryt said slowly.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Ginny said with a nod.

After finishing their breakfast, the three girls made their way down to the Quidditch field. It was cold out, but the sky was clear. Perfect weather for Quidditch. Bryt just hoped that luck would be on Gryffindor's side today.

"We've never lost to Slytherin yet," Ginny said confidently as they found seats in the stand, "We'll win. I know it."

Bryt nodded, hoping Ginny would be right. Still, she slipped her bracelet from her wrist and began playing with it between her hands. Ron was a good player, but this was the first time he'd be playing in front of the entire school. Bryt didn't know how he'd react to that.

Bryt's anxiety only grew when she saw the two teams come out onto the pitch. As soon as both teams were in the air, Bryt watched Ron fly towards the Gryffindor goal posts. Even though the game started and Bryt occasionally glanced around, she mostly kept her gaze on Ron, leaving her to have to rely on Lee's commentary to know what was happening in the game. At the moment, the Quaffle was in the hands of the Gryffindor Chasers—definitely a good start to the game.

"Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse passes to Alicia Spinnet," Lee was saying, his voice echoing through the stadium, "And Spinnet's away. Dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger—close call, Alicia—and the crowd is loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?"

Bryt blinked, turning away from Ron to look around as Lee fell silent. A sickening feeling rushed through her as she could suddenly make out the words—and realized they were coming from the Slytherin section:

_Weasley cannot save a thing,_

_He cannot block a single ring,_

_That's why the Slytherins all sing:_

_Weasley is our King_

_Weasley was born in a bin,_

_He always lets the Quaffle in,_

_Weasley will make sure we win,_

_Weasley is our King._

"Damn them!" Bryt hissed, gripping her bracelet tighter in her hands and quickly looked back at Ron. Maybe he hadn't heard them yet. Maybe he was too focused on the game...

Unfortunately, Ron had seemed to hear. He kept looking over at the Slytherin stands and kept sinking and flying back up on his broom.

"Just ignore them, Ron!" Bryt cupped her hands around her mouth, shouting even though she knew he wouldn't hear her. Bryt gripped her bracelet tighter, constantly shooting glares towards the Slytherin section between keeping an eye on Ron.

"And Alicia passes back to Angelina!" Lee shouted in an attempt to drown out the singing, "Come on now, Angelina—looks like she's got the Keeper to beat! SHE SHOOTS—SHE—aaah..."

Bryt didn't need to look to see Angelina hadn't made the goal. The Slytherins' cheering and the groaning of all other Houses was enough for her.

Bryt looked away from Ron to check on the game. She noticed one of the Slytherin Chasers—Warrington—had the Quaffle and was making his way towards Ron. Unfortunately, the Slytherins were singing even louder now.

"COME ON, RON!" Bryt was on her feet, screaming now. She wasn't the only one. Ginny and Hermione on either side of her had jumped up and were shouting as well. Bryt was gripping her bracelet so tightly in her hands that it was hurting, but she didn't dare let go. She watched, screaming encouragement at Ron as Warrington got closer and the Slytherins began singing even louder.

Warrington made the shot and Ron dove to block it—only to have the Quaffle go right between his hands and through the goal. Bryt sunk back into her seat with a groan, banging her fits against her forehead and closing her eyes. The miss had been so close...

The match didn't go much better after that. Losing that first goal seemed to had completely ruined Ron's confidence. Even though Gryffindor managed to score once, Ron let in four more goals. Bryt hadn't paid a single bit of attention to the rest of the game, her entire focus on Ron now as she kept screaming herself hoarse in the hopeless attempt to drown out the Slytherins' singing.

"GO, HARRY, GO!"

Bryt turned as Ginny's shout and noticed Harry had gone into a dive. Bryt gripped her bracelet tighter, jumping up and down and screaming for Harry now as he and Malfoy were practically neck-and-neck. Within seconds, Harry had pulled up, his hand thrust in the air in triumph.

"YES, WE WON! WE WON!" Bryt and Ginny screamed together. Bryt instantly turned to look back at Ron, who was slowly descending towards the ground. Bryt headed off through the crowd and quickly down the steps, getting near the locker room, though she noticed Ron didn't even go in. He just kept walking.

"Ron, wait up," Bryt called, pushing her bracelet back on her wrist and running up to him, "Don't worry about today, okay? It was just a bad day. Everyone has them."

Ron made an odd noise, not looking at Bryt.

"I didn't even block a single goal," he said bitterly.

"It was just an off day," Bryt said again, "And a lot of those misses were very close. You'll do fantastic on the next game."

"Not if I resign."

"Ron, don't say that," Bryt said with a sigh as a light snowfall started. Bryt glanced up at it, then pulled off her scarf and handed it to Ron. Ron stared at her as if she were insane, but finally muttered a thanks and wrapped the scarf around his neck. He probably knew if he didn't accept, Bryt wouldn't leave him alone about it until he gave in.

"You shouldn't resign," Bryt said again as they walked, "You're a great player. You shouldn't let one bad game get to you."

Ron grumbled something under his breath and Bryt sighed, pushing her hands into her pockets and just walking silently with Ron. She wished she could say something—anything—that would cheer Ron up, but no matter what she thought of, she doubted it'd work. So, the two just continued to walk next to each other in silence.

"That damn song just got me so wound up," Ron finally said.

"It would have wound anyone up," Bryt replied, eager to try and put Ron as ease again.

"Not you."

Bryt sighed again, closing her eyes for a second.

"Sometimes, I envy how you just don't care, Bryt."

Bryt stopped short for a second, staring at Ron in surprise. She quickly regained herself and quickened her pace to catch back up with him, trying to process what he had just said. Bryt found it difficult to accept anyone would be jealous of her in any way—especially Ron. Bryt just wasn't the type who stood out in any way _to_ made anyone jealous. She was always the one jealous of others. Jealous of Sofí for her overly carefree nature. Jealous of Julio and Hermione for how easily they could catch on to any lesson they took. Jealous of Harry for how accepting he was most times. And especially jealous of Ron for being from a fully magical family. One that wasn't so terrified of the world their children were a part of that they refused to have magic be talked about in the house. The only thing that made Bryt 'better' than anyone in any sense was her Potions skill and even that was just on par with Hermione's—the girl that was the best in nearly every class. There was no reason for _anyone_ to be jealous of her.

"Well, I can always punch anyone who tries to annoy you," Bryt finally managed, realizing how quiet she had been.

"And let you end up with more scars on your hand?" Ron asked bitterly, "No thanks."

Bryt frowned, staring up at the snow. First snow of the season. Usually, Bryt was eager for it, ready to enjoy the snowball fights. But this time, it was just gloomy, as if the darkening sky overhead wanted to taunt them.

The silence stayed between the two until it started growing too cold and dark and they finally headed inside. Bryt's face hurt from the cold and she noticed Ron seemed a bit pale—at least Bryt had managed to talk Ron into changing back out of his Quidditch robes earlier in the afternoon. Bryt gripped Ron's hand in hers and gave him a weak smile—one he didn't return—as they made their way back to the common room.

Bryt knew something was wrong as soon as they went through the porthole and realized no one seemed to be celebrating Gryffindor's win. Bryt and Ron stopped just in the entrance, looking over at Harry and Hermione by the fire.

"Where have you two been?" Hermione asked.

"Walking," Bryt and Ron replied as they sat down together near the fire—the warmth felt pretty nice.

"You two look frozen!" Hermione said weakly.

"We're fine, Hermione," Bryt said, sinking back in her seat and looking over at Ron, who was now staring at the floor. Bryt sighed, once again wishing she knew what she could say to help him feel better.

"I'm sorry," Ron finally said after a while.

"What for?" Harry asked.

"For thinking I can play Quidditch. I'm going to resign first thing tomorrow."

"Ron," Bryt said with a sigh, looking over at Harry and Hermione, "I tried to convince him earlier. He wouldn't listen to me."

"Well, if you resign," Harry said sharply, "There'll only be three players left on the team."

"What?" Bryt asked, staring at Harry. What was he talking about? Did something happen after Bryt went after Ron?

Apparently, something major had happened. Malfoy had been taunting the Gryffindor team and Harry and George attacked Malfoy. Unfortunately, Umbridge found out and, thanks to a new decree, gave Harry, George, and Fred lifelong bans—apparently she figured Fred was just as 'violent' as his twin and deserved the same punishment. Bryt and Ron stared back at Harry and Hermione, horrified.

"This is my fault..." Ron started.

"You didn't _make_ me punch Malfoy," Harry shot back.

"If I wasn't so lousy at Quidditch—"

"You are _not_ bad at Quidditch!" Bryt said, "You just have to learn to ignore that stupid song."

"Look, let's just drop it," Harry said sharply, "It's bad enough with you blaming yourself for everything!"

Bryt glared over at Harry. Ron's mood was sour enough—he didn't need Harry adding to it.

"This is the worse I've ever felt in my life," Ron said quietly and Bryt gave his hand a light squeeze, watching him closely.

"Join the club," Harry said.

"Well," Hermione said suddenly and Bryt looked up to see she was at the window, "I can think of one thing that might cheer you up."

"Oh yeah?" Harry asked.

Hermione turned from the window, a grin on her face and Bryt stared at her in confusion until Hermione said two words that gave Bryt a huge wave of relief:

"Hagrid's back."


	25. Hagrid's Return

Within minutes, the four were huddled under the Invisibility Cloak and on their way down to Hagrid's hut. They moved as quickly as they could under the cloak—a difficult task now that Ron was quite tall and had to stay hunched down next to them. The second they were across the grounds and at Hagrid's door, Harry started knocking as hard as he could, but they didn't dare come out from under the cloak yet.

"Hagrid, it's us!" Harry called.

"Shoulda known!"

Bryt grinned, instantly recognizing the man's voice. She had been missing Hagrid far more than she realized and it was such a relief to finally have him back—and that Hagrid sounded happy that they were there.

"Bin home only three seconds..." Hagrid went on, "Out the way, Fang...Out the way, yeh dozy dog."

Hagrid opened the door and Hermione let out a scream while Bryt gasped, clamping her hands over her mouth. Nasty bruises and cuts covered Hagrid's face as if he had been on the worst-end of a fight. Bryt didn't even want to imagine what could have done something like that to someone as large and tough as Hagrid.

"It's nuthin', it's nuthin'," Hagrid said after the four were inside and removed the Invisibility Cloak and were staring at Hagrid's injuries.

"What happened to you?" Bryt and Harry asked together. Fang ran up to them, wagging his tail happily and trying to knock them on their backs in an attempt to lick their faces. Bryt actually was knocked backwards into Hermione before she managed to get Fang to back off.

"Told yeh, _nuthin'_," Hagrid insisted, "Want a cuppa?"

"Come off it, you're in a right state!" Ron said.

"I'm tellin' yeh, I'm fine," Hagrid said, trying to grin at them, but gave a wince, "Blimey, it's good ter see you four again—had good summers, did yeh?"

"Hagrid, you're not fine," Bryt said, "Look at you! A lot of those cuts look like they might get infected if you don't get them checked."

"I'm dealin' with it, all righ'?" Hagrid said, starting to sound a bit annoyed.

Bryt sat back in her chair next to Ron, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched Hagrid walk across the hut and uncover something that looked like a giant raw steak that had a sickly green color to it. Bryt made a face.

"You're not going to eat that, are you, Hagrid?" Ron asked, "It looks poisonous."

"It's s'posed ter look like that, it's dragon meat," Hagrid said. Bryt quickly looked away from it, hoping that whatever dragon that meat came from had died naturally.

"Tha's better," Hagrid said and Bryt looked over to see he had put the meat over the worst-bruised side of his face, "It helps with the stingin', yeh know."

_'Yeah, but I don't think I'd ever want to try it,'_ Bryt thought, fighting hard to keep back a look of disgust.

"What happened to you, anyway?" Bryt asked, trying again to get any information from Hagrid.

"Can' say," Hagrid said after a second, "Top secret. More'n me job's worth ter tell yeh that."

"Was it giants?" Bryt asked. She figured only something like giants could cause this much damage to someone like Hagrid.

Hagrid jerked slightly, his steak falling into his lap. He caught it quickly and put it over his face again.

"Giants? Who said anythin' abou' giants? Who yeh bin talkin' to? Who's told yeh what I've—who's said I've bin—eh?"

"We guessed," Hermione said with a weak grin.

"It was a bit obvious," Bryt added.

Hagrid gave them all a stern look, and Bryt just stared back. Finally, the tea kettle started whistling and Hagrid went over to check on it.

"Never known kids like you four fer knowin' more'n yeh oughta," Hagrid muttered as he poured the tea, "An' I'm not complimentin' yeh, neither. Nosy, some'd call it. Interferin'."

But it was hard to take that as scolding when Bryt could have sworn Hagrid was smiling under his beard.

"So you have been looking for giants?" Harry asked as Hagrid gave them each an oversized mug of tea, then sat down.

"Yeah all righ'. I have," he finally said.

"And you found them?" Bryt and Hermione asked—Hermione sounding cautious while Bryt was curious and eager for any information about the giants.

"Well, they're not that difficult ter find, ter be honest," Hagrid replied, "Pretty big, see."

"Of course," Bryt said, "Where were they? In the mountains? That seems the only place big enough for them to stay hidden in."

Hagrid simply nodded, obviously not planning to be too giving with the information. Bryt fought the urge to roll her eyes. She was far too curious about what Hagrid had been up to.

"So why don't Muggles—"

"They do," Hagrid cut Harry off, "O'ny their deaths area always put down ter mountaineerin' accidents, aren' they?"

Bryt couldn't help but wonder just how many people had ended up losing their lives to giants and how many were actual accidents.

"Come on, Hagrid," Ron said, looking as curious and eager was Bryt was, "Tell us what you've been up to! Tell us about being attacked by the giants and Harry can tell you about being attacked by the dementors—"

Hagrid dropped his mug, choking on his tea and dropping the dragon meat, which hit the floor with a sickening sound.

"Whadda yeh mean, attacked by dementors?" Hagrid asked, looking at Harry. Bryt blinked in surprise. How had Hagrid not heard about what happened yet?

"No one's told you?" Bryt asked.

"I don' know anything that's been happenin' since I left. I was on a secret mission, wasn' I, didn' wan' owls followin' me all over the place—ruddy dementors! Yeh're not serious?"

"Yeah, I am," Harry said, "They turned up in Little Whinging and attacked my cousin and me, and the Ministry of Magic expelled me and I had to go to a hearing and everything, but tell us about the giants first."

"You were expelled?" Hagrid asked, staring at Harry in shock.

"Tell us about your summer and I'll tell you about mine."

Bryt watched as Hagrid and Harry continued to stare at each other and Bryt had to fight back a laugh as she realized they seemed to be in some type of staring contest—both waiting for the other to blink first.

"Oh, all righ'," Hagrid finally said with a sigh, grabbing the steak off the ground—he had to wrestle it away from Fang first. Much to Bryt's disgust, Hagrid immediately put the steak back over his eye.

It turned out that Hagrid had had quite an adventure. He told them—through Bryt's constant interruptions with questions about the giants—about how he and Madam Maxime knew they were being followed by the Ministry, so they pretended to be heading down to France until they lost their tail. Then, they headed back into the mountains for a group of giants that Dumbledore had told them would be there. They eventually did find the giants, hoping to win them over with gifts and kind words, and they had thought they were doing okay until the third day. Apparently, there had been a giant uprising and the first Grug—the chief of the giants—had been killed and replaced. Apparently, the new Grug had been had been associating with a Death Eater and wasn't going to hear much more from Hagrid and Maxime.

They continued to try, though they didn't get far. They had found some giants hiding in caves and had been on the verge of convincing them to help when the giants had been attacked—most killed. Those who were left were too frightened to agree to help.

"So...the giants aren't coming?" Ron asked after Hagrid had finished finally.

"Nope," Hagrid said with a sigh, "But we did wha' we meant ter do, we gave 'em Dumbledore's message an' some o' them heard it an' I 'spect some o' them'll remember it. Jus' maybe, them that don' want ter stay around Golgomath'll move outta the mountains, an' there's gonna be a chance they'll remember Dumbledore's friendly to 'em...Could be they'll come..."

Bryt played with her bracelet between her hands, thinking over Hagrid's story. She couldn't imagine what it had to be like, walking into the tribe of giants every day, then having everything go to hell on them. At least Hagrid and Maxime had made it out alive—though Hagrid looked a lot worse for wear.

"So, why're you back so late?" Bryt finally asked, "And who attacked you? The giants?"

"I haven' bin attacked!" Hagrid said, but before he could say anything else, there was a loud knocking on the door. Hermione gave a yelp, dropping her mug, which broke on the ground.

"It's her!" Ron hissed, pointing towards the shadow of a small woman against the window's curtain. It wasn't hard to guess who the 'her' was.

Harry quickly grabbed his cloak and he, Bryt, Ron, and Hermione all got under it, hiding in the back corner of the hut while Hagrid looked confused and Fang barked at the door.

"Hagrid, hide our mugs!" Hermione hissed.

Hagrid quickly took the mugs and hid them under Fang's dog bed while Bryt backed up against her friends more. She felt something wet against the back of her robes and looked behind her at Harry. He blinked, then seeming to guess what Bryt was staring at him about, mouthed "Fang". Bryt fought back a sigh as she turned around. Just what she needed. Dog slobber on the back of her robes.

Hagrid went and opened the door. As they had known, Umbridge was standing there in a thick, green cloak that made her resemblance to a toad so much more noticeable.

"So," Umbridge said in a loud, slow voice, as if she were talking to either a toddler or someone nearly deaf, "You're Hagrid, are you?"

Umbridge didn't wait for Hagrid to reply as she invited herself into the hut, looking around in disgust.

"Get away," Umbridge snapped at Fang, smacking at him with her handbag. Bryt tensed, glaring at the woman. She felt someone grip onto her arm and turned to see Hermione giving her a warning look.

"I'm not going to do anything," Bryt mouthed, but Hermione simply shook her head. Bryt rolled her eyes, looking back over at Umbridge. At least Fang didn't seem bothered by Umbridge as he sat down, watching Umbridge and Hagrid.

"Er—I don't want ter be rude," Hagrid said, "But who the ruddy hell are you?"

Bryt bit on her tongue to keep from groaning. That was not the best thing to say to Umbridge.

"My name is Dolores Umbridge," Umbridge replied, still looking around the room. Bryt couldn't help but tense slightly every time the woman looked towards where Bryt and her friends were hiding.

"Dolores Umbridge? I thought you were on o' them Ministry—don' you work with Fudge?"

"I was Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, yes," Umbridge said—Bryt rolled her eyes. Umbridge always used any opportunity to bring up how important she had been when working at the Ministry of Magic. "I am now the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—"

"Tha's brave of yeh," Hagrid said, "There's not many'd take tha' job."

"—And the Hogwards High Inquisitor," Umbridge went on as if she hadn't heard Hagrid. Bryt would bet anything she had, however, and was going to use it as a mark against Hagrid.

"What's that?" Hagrid asked.

"Precisely what I was going to ask," Umbridge said, motioning to Hermione's broken mug on the floor.

"Oh. Oh tha' was...Fang. He broke a mug. So I had ter use this one instead," Hagrid explained quickly, lifting the mug in his hand.

Umbridge just stood still, studying Hagrid closely. Bryt doubted his battered appearance and the dragon meat held to his face was going to help him any at all.

"I heard voices," Umbridge said finally and Bryt felt her stomach drop as her heart started pounding harder.

"I was talkin' ter Fang," Hagrid replied quickly.

"And was he talking back to you?"

"Well...in a manner o' speakin', I sometimes say Fang's near enough human—"

"There are four sets of footprints in the snow leading from the castle doors to your cabin."

Bryt groaned and Hermione gasped. Bryt glared at Ron out of the corner of her eye when Ron put his hand over her mouth—Harry had just done the same to Hermione—but luckily, Umbridge didn't seem to hear over Fang.

"Well, I on'y jus' got back," Hagrid said, "Maybe someone came ter call earlier an I missed 'em."

"There are no footsteps leading away from your cabin door."

"Well...I don' know why that'd be..." Hagrid said slowly and Bryt tensed more as Hagrid glanced over at where they were hiding.

_'Don't look over here!'_ Bryt thought, _'Don't give us away, Hagrid, please!'_

Umbridge started to pace the room, studying every inch carefully. Bryt accidentally stepped on Harry's foot in a hurried attempt to back away one of the times Umbridge passed within inches of them. The last thing Umbridge inspected was Hagrid's large cauldron that sat near the fireplace.

_'What? She thinks someone'd hide in that?'_ Bryt thought.

"What has happened to you?" Umbridge asked, turning back to Hagrid finally, "How did you sustain those injuries?"

Hagrid removed the slab of meat to study Umbridge more closely.

"I...had a bit of an accident," Hagrid said simply.

"What sort of accident?"

"I tripped."

"You...tripped."

"Over a friend's broomstick."

Bryt rolled her eyes. Couldn't Hagrid had said something a bit more believable, like he had tripped down the stairs or something?

"Where have you been?" Umbridge asked sharply.

"Where've I..."

"Been, yes. Term started more than two months ago. Another teacher has had to cover your classes. None of your colleagues has been able to give me any information as to your whereabouts. You left on address. Where have you been?"

Hagrid continued to stare at Umbridge, obviously thinking hard for some type of excuse. Why hadn't he had one ready for when he returned? Didn't he know there'd be questions?  
"I've been away from me health," he finally said. Bryt groaned against the palm of Ron's hand that was still over her mouth.

"Your health," Umbridge repeated, studying Hagrid's face, "I see."

"Yeah. Bit o' fresh air, yeh know."

"Yes, as gamekeeper, fresh air must be so difficult to come by," Umbridge said, as if she were being nice by agreeing to a child's wild claim. Bryt clenched her hands into fists, glaring at the woman.

"Well," Hagrid said, "Change o' scene, yeh know."

"Mountain scenery?"

Bryt felt her stomach drop again, a sickening feeling wash over her. She glanced around at her friends under the cloak and realized they all seemed to be thinking the same she was. They had easily guessed Hagrid was looking for giants—had the Ministry guessed it as well?

"Mountains?" Hagrid asked, "Nope, South of France fer me. Bit o' sun an'...an' sea."

"Really? You don't have much of a tan."

_'Yeah, well, I grew up in Charleston and spent a lot of time outside, but I never really tanned,'_ Bryt thought bitterly.

"Yeah, well...sensitive skin," Hagrid said with a small smile—Bryt winced when she noticed he seemed to be missing a couple of teeth. Umbridge simply gave Hagrid a cold look before adjusting her bag over her shoulder.

"I shall be informing the Minister of your late return," Umbridge said and Hagrid nodded, "You ought to know that as High Inquisitor it is my unfortunate but necessary duty to inspect my fellow teachers. So I daresay we shall meet again soon again."

_'Unfortunate? Yeah right,'_ Bryt thought bitterly. She knew Umbridge loved her power—and loved flaunting it in front of the rest of the staff, knowing that they knew she could cause trouble for them at any time.

"You're inspectin' us?" Hagrid asked, looking confused.

"Oh yes," Umbridge said, turning back to Hagrid as she reached the door, "The Ministry is determined to weed out unsatisfactory teachers, Hagrid. Good night."

_'You mean teachers you just don't like,' _Bryt thought bitterly, glaring after Umbridge. Hagrid went to the window and looked out before turning back around towards their corner.

"She's goin' back ter the castle," he said, "Blimey...Inspectin' people, is she?"

"Yeah," Harry said as he pulled off the cloak and they moved from their tight group, "Trelawney's on probation already."

"And she's already shown she doesn't like anyone who isn't 'full human'," Bryt said, "She'll be looking for any excuse to put you on probation, too."

"So Umbridge won't like it at all if you bring to class anything that's too dangerous," Hermione added.

"Dangerous?" Hagrid looked at them, "Don' be silly, I wouldn' give yeh anythin' dangerous!"

_'Except Blast-Ended Skrewts,'_ Bryt thought. Bryt loved Hagrid's classes and the creatures he brought in, but even she knew how dangerous the creatures could be.

"Hagrid," Hermione said slowly, "You've got to pass Umbridge's inspection, and to do that it would really be better if she saw you teaching us how to look after porlocks, how to tell the difference between knarls and hedgehogs, stuff like that!"

_'Though I have the feeling she'd fail Hagrid no matter what he taught us,'_ Bryt thought bitterly.

"But tha's not very interestin', Hermione. The stuff I've got's much more impressive, I've bin bringin' 'em on fer years, I reckon I've got the on'y domestic herd in Britain."

"Then you definitely can't show us that," Bryt said, though she'd love to find out what he was raising—if only Umbridge wasn't so power-hungry and determined to 'weed out undesirables', "Umbridge will get rid of you in a second just for being close to Dumbledore. She'll use absolutely anything as an excuse. Please, just stick to boring things."

Hagrid just waved them off and yawned.

"Lis'en, it's bin a long day an' it's late," he said, "Look, don' you go worryin' abou' me, I promise yeh I've got really good stuff planned fer yer lessons now I'm back...Now you lot had better get back up to the castle, an' don' forget ter wipe yer footprints out behind yeh!"

Hagrid wouldn't hear any more from them, so they were forced to head back out in the snow, grouped under the cloak while Hermione used a spell to hide their footprints.

"I dunno if you got through to him," Ron said when they were halfway to the castle.

"I don't know if anyone will," Bryt answered with a sigh, "I mean, he knows I love these creatures as much as he does, but if he won't even listen to me..."

"Well, I'm going back again tomorrow," Hermione said, the same determination in her voice as when she talked about SPEW, "I'll plan his lessons for him if I have to. I don't care if Umbridge throws out Trelawney, but she's not taking Hagrid!"

Bryt nodded, hoping Hermione would have better luck in the morning. She didn't want Hagrid to be kicked out of the school. She'd already been missing him too much over the past couple of months—she didn't want to think about not getting to see him on a regular basis.


	26. Another Inspection

Bryt wanted to go with Hermione to talk with Hagrid the next day, but her homework had piled up again, so Bryt stayed in the Gryffindor common room with Harry and Ron to try and get through the assignments. Unfortunately, Hermione hadn't had any luck, so when Tuesday came, Bryt was a bit worried about how their Care of Magical Creatures would be if Umbridge showed up for inspection—and she had a feeling the woman would very soon.

Umbridge wasn't there when they first arrived, bundled up against the cold morning. Bryt made a face of disgust when she noticed Hagrid had half of a dead cow resting over his shoulder—and she also was both curious and worried about what they were going to be learning about today.

"We're workin' in here today!" Hagrid said enthusiastically, motioning to the forest, "Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark."

Bryt exchanged a glance with her friends. Having a lesson in the Forbidden Forest wasn't exactly the best way to give a good impression with Umbridge—though Bryt felt that Hagrid would teach them about something as simple as diricawls and Umbridge would still find some way to classify the creature as 'dangerous' simply because it was Hagrid teaching.

"What prefers the dark?" Malfoy asked suddenly, "What did he say prefers the dark—did you hear?"

Bryt looked at Malfoy, extremely pleased with the look of panic on his face. She distinctly remembered their first year when she had detention with Malfoy. He had been terrified the entire time and it was very satisfactory to see Malfoy so edgy.

"I've bin savin' a trip inter the forest fer yer fifth year," Hagrid said as they started through the trees, "Thought we'd go an' see the creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we're studyin' today is pretty rare, I reckon I'm probably the on'y person in Britain who's managed ter train 'em."

_'Not a good sign,'_ Bryt thought, glancing at her friends. They all knew that Hagrid often thought he had more control over a creature than he really did—a good example would be the acroamantulas in the forest they were now walking through.

They continued to follow Hagrid through the forest for nearly ten minutes, soon reaching a clearing that was in an area so covered that there was practically no light—nor any snow on the ground. Bryt started to feel uneasy, this area was reminding her all too much of her detention there years before. Instinctively, she moved closer to Ron, gripping his hand as she looked around. Bryt obviously wasn't the only one on edge. There were quite a few students grouped together, looking around cautiously.

"Gather roun', gather roun'," Hagrid said as he dropped the half-cow on the ground and Bryt looked away as it made a sickening noise, "Now, they'll be attracted by the smell o' the meat but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, 'cause they'll like ter know it's me..."

Hagrid pulled himself up to full height and let out a loud shriek that caused Bryt and several others to jump. Bryt looked around for any sign of the creatures Hagrid was calling, but hadn't seen anything yet. After a couple of minutes, Hagrid let out the cry again.

Finally, Bryt saw them and immediately felt a bit of relief. It was only thestrals. By far an acceptable creature for a Care of Magical Creatures class—much more than the Blast-Ended Skrewts from the previous year.

"Why doesn't Hagrid call again?" Ron asked after another minute, still looking around.

"They're thestrals, Ron," Bryt whispered back and Hermione suddenly got a look of understanding, looking over at Bryt with a curious expression. Bryt looked away quickly to watch the thestral, knowing what Hermione was probably wondering about. After all, Bryt's ability to see thestrals—and the reason why—was one of the few things that Bryt had never told Hermione about.

"Now..." Hagrid said once there were about three thestrals in the clearing, "Put yer hands up, who can see 'em?"

Bryt raised her free hand. She knew Harry would raise his, but she was surprised to see both Neville and a Slytherin boy raised their hands as well.

"Yeah...yeah, I knew you'd be able ter, Harry," Hagrid said with a small nod, "An' you two, Neville? Bryt? An'—"

"Excuse me," Malfoy cut in, "But what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?"

Bryt glared over at Malfoy as Hagrid pointed towards the thestrals who were tearing into the dead cow—Bryt didn't want to make herself feel sick by watching them eat. Several of the students suddenly looked disgusted or shocked. Bryt couldn't blame them—it had to look kind of frightening to see the cow being torn apart by something invisible.

"What's doing it?" Parvati asked, her back to a tree now, "What's eating it?"

"Thestrals," Hagrid said, "Hogwarts has got a whole herd of 'em here. Now, who knows—"

"But they're really, really unlucky!" Parvati said, "They're supposed to bring all sorts of horrible misfortune on people who see them, Professor Trelawney told me once—"

"Tha's jus' superstition, that is," Hagrid said with a chuckle, "They aren' unlucky, they're dead clever an' useful. 'Course, this lot don' get a lot o' work, it's mainly jus' pullin' the school carriages unless Dumbledore's takin' a long journey an' don' want ter Apparate—an' here's another couple, look."

Bryt watched as two more of the thestrals came into the clearing. As one passed close to Bryt, she reached out and patted its back a couple of times. The thestral didn't seem to mind—in fact, it didn't react at all—as it went on towards the cow.

"Did one just pass by?" Ron asked, "I mean, you just started...patting the air..."

Bryt grinned at Ron.

"Yeah, they're pretty neat creatures."

"Righ'," Hagrid said, "Now, who can tell me why some o' you can see them an' some can't?"

Again, Bryt raised her free hand into the air.

"Go on then," Hagrid said with a bright grin.

"Thestrals are only visible to those who've seen and accepted someone's death," Bryt said.

"Tha's exactly right," Hagrid said, "Ten points ter Gryffindor. Now, thestrals—"

"_Hem, hem._"

Bryt tightened her grip around Ron's hand as she turned and glared towards Umbridge. She should have known better than to hope that Umbridge wouldn't show up for this lesson. She already knew this was going to end badly.

"You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?" Umbridge asked, using that same slow, loud voice she had the other night, "Telling you that I would be inspecting your lesson?"

"Oh, yeah," Hagrid answered, "Glad yeh found the place all righ'! Well, as you can see—or, I dunno—can you? We're doin' thestrals today."

"I'm sorry?" Umbridge asked, making a show of speaking louder and cupping her hand around her ear, "What did you say?"

"You understand him perfectly fine, y'old cow!" Bryt hissed under her breath, tightening her grip so hard on Ron's hand that he gave a yelp and pulled loose from her. Bryt shot him an apologetic look before turning back to Umbridge and Hagrid, who was now trying to explain thestrals by flapping his arms beside him like wings. Bryt groaned. Hagrid was unknowingly making things even worse on himself.

Umbridge stared at Hagrid, then looked down at her clipboard, talking in a false whisper as she wrote, "_Has...to...resort...to...crude...sign...language..._"

Bryt jerked forward, but stopped as Hermione and Ron both grabbed onto her arms, though Bryt could tell they and Harry were all extremely angry as well.

"Well..." Hagrid said slowly, giving Umbridge a wary look, "Er...what was I sayin'?"

"_Appears...to...have...poor...short...term...memory..._"

The Slytherins—especially Malfoy and his gang—were looking so pleased that it only sent Bryt's anger to an even higher level.

"Lemme go," Bryt hissed, "Lemme punch 'em. Put 'em in their place."

"Bryt, calm down," Hermione hissed back, though her tone gave away she was fighting hard to restrain her own anger, "If Umbridge sees us holding you back, you'll end up in detention again."

Bryt knew Hermione had a point and went extremely tense, gripping her hands tightly into fits.

"M'fine, lemme go," she muttered. Ron and Hermione hesitated, but let go, and Bryt fought hard to keep herself from marching across the clearing to punch any Slytherin she got to first.

"I was gonna tell yeh how we got a herd," Hagrid said and Bryt looked over at him, trying to put her focus on the lesson—but, for the first time, she didn't want to hear about creatures. She was far too pissed to learn at the moment.

"So, we started off with a male an' five females," Hagrid said, then patting one of the nearby thestrals, "This one, name o' Tenebrus, he's my special favorite, firs' one born here in the forest—"

"Are you aware that the Ministry of Magic has classified thestrals as 'dangerous'?" Umbridge interrupted. Bryt glared at the woman again.

"Thestrals aren' dangerous!" Hagrid said defensively, "All righ', they might take a bite outta you if yeh really annoy them—"

"_Shows...signs...of...pleasure...at...idea...of...violence..._" Umbridge said as she wrote on her clipboard again.

"Shut up y'horrible cow," Bryt hissed, shaking from her anger now.

"No, come on!" Hagrid said, realizing he was starting to backed into a corner, "I mean, a dog'll bite if yeh bait it, won' it? But thestrals have jus' got a bad reputation because o' the death thing—people used ter think they were bad omens, didn' they? Jus' didn' understand, did they?"

Umbridge seemed to be ignoring Hagrid completely as she wrote. When she finished, she looked up at Hagrid with that sickening smile of hers.

"Please continue teaching as usual," she said, then began using over-exaggerated hand-gestures to explain what she was saying as she continued, "I'm going to walk among the students and ask them questions."

"You hag! You evil hag!" Hermione hissed next to Bryt, shaking like Bryt was, and looking on the verge of tears from her anger, "I know what you're doing, you awful, twisted, vicious—"

"Are y'sure I can' go punch her?" Bryt asked.

"You'd just get expelled," Harry said bitterly.

"So, thestrals," Hagrid was saying, looking as if he had lost his usual enthusiasm, "Well, there's loads o' good stuff abou' them..."

"Do you find that you are able to understand Professor Hagrid when he talks?" Umbridge asked Parkinson loudly. Bryt was now so angry she could barely see straight and it was taking every ounce of self-control to keep still—and biting hard on her tongue to keep from starting to yell.

"No...because...well...it sounds...like grunting a lot of the time..." Parkinson managed between stifled laughing. Bryt jerked slightly, but stopped herself from heading forward.

"So...good stuff about thestrals," Hagrid said slowly, "Well, once they're tamed, like this lot, yeh'll never be lost again. 'Mazin' senses o' direction, just tell 'em where yeh want ter go—"

"Assuming they can understand you, of course," Malfoy said loudly and several Slytherins broke into fits of laughter. Umbridge smiled at them before turning away.

"Lemme at leas' punch that bastard," Bryt muttered.

"Bryt, no," Ron said through clenched teeth, "You have enough scars from Umbridge."

"You can see thestrals, Longbottom, can you?" Umbridge was asking Neville. He gave a small nod in response.

"Whom did you see die?"

"That is completely uncalled fer!" Bryt snapped under her breath as Neville looked increasingly uncomfortable.

"My grandad," he said slowly.

"And what do you think of them?" Umbridge asked, motioning wildly around her.

Neville glanced towards where Hagrid was with a couple of the thestrals.

"Well, they're...er...okay."

"_Students...are...too...intimidated...to...admit...they...are...frightened..._"

"No!" Neville said loudly, looking even more uncomfortable, "I'm not scared of them!"

"It's quite all right," Umbridge said, patting Neville on the shoulder as if she were comforting a five-year-old before she turned to Hagrid, using her over-exaggerated hand gestures again, "Well Hagrid. I think I've got enough to be getting along with...You will receive the results of your inspection in ten days' time."

Umbridge left, and the class didn't go too well after that. Bryt only started to calm down when they were finally heading across the snowy grounds for Herbology and Bryt was glad that she had been wearing thick gloves—otherwise she had a feeling she would have had bleeding hands from how tightly she'd been gripping them into fists.

"That foul, lying, twisting old gargoyle!" Hermione snapped, obviously still furious herself, "You see what she's up to? It's her thing about half-breeds all over again—she's trying to make out Hagrid's some kind of dim-witted troll, just because he had a giantess for a mother—and oh, it's not fair, that really wasn't a bad lesson at all—I mean, all right, if it had been Blast-Ended Skrewts again, but thestrals are fine—in fact, for Hagrid, they're really good!"

"Umbridge says they're dangerous," Ron said and Bryt rolled her eyes.

"They've been pullin' the carriages fer years, nothin's ever happened so far," she said sharply, "Thestrals're perfectly safe when tame, an' this herd's tame."

"I suppose a teacher like Grubbly-Plank wouldn't usually show them to us before NEWT level, but well, they are very interesting," Hermione added, "The way some people can see them and some can't! I wish I could."

"No, y'don'," Bryt said at the same time Harry went "Do you?"

Hermione stared at them, looking embarrassed.

"Oh...I'm sorry—no, of course I don't...That was a really stupid thing to say..."

"It's okay," Harry said quickly and Bryt nodded in agreement.

"I'm surprised so many people _could_ see them," Ron said and Bryt could see him glancing at her from the corner of his eye—probably, like Hermione earlier, wondering who Bryt had seen die, "Four in a class—"

"Yeah, we were just wondering," Malfoy called from behind them, "Who was it you saw snuff it, Watkins? Weasley's Quidditch talent? Not that he had any to begin with!"

Malfoy and his gang started laughing as they started off for the castle, singing "Weasley is Our King" again. Bryt felt her face flush from anger and annoyance, imagining how satisfying it would be to throw a rock and hit Malfoy in the back of the head.

"Just ignore them," Hermione said simply.

Bryt glared after Malfoy until the Slytherins had disappeared into the castle before turning back ahead of her as she followed her friends to the greenhouses for Herbology.

"Just to let you know," Bryt finally said, "It was my grandmother."

"Bryt," Ron said slowly, "You...er..."

Bryt shrugged, really appreciating Ron's try, but he definitely wasn't good with the words of comfort.

"It's not really some big secret, I mean, you already knew my grandparents died when I was nine. I just didn't want to talk about it," she said, "Come on, we'll be late for class."

Bryt quickened her pace a bit, heading into the greenhouses, eager to escape the cold and to have the usual busy Herbology class to distract her from how horrible the day had gone so far.

**xxxxx**

**A/N:** For anyone curious, a diricawl, as noted in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_: "A plump-bodied, fluffy-feathered, flightless bird, the diricawl is remarkable for its method of escaping danger. It can vanish in a puff of feathers and reappear elsewhere." Known as a Dodo bird by Muggles, who think the bird has gone extinct.


	27. A Good Day

November soon gave way to December, and with it came even colder weather. Hermione and Ron were spending more and more time with prefect duties—either helping decorate the castle for Christmas, patrolling corridors, or watching over the first and second years when they stayed inside after classes due to the bitter cold.

Hermione and Ron were currently on the 'watching younger students' duty one Thursday after dinner, and Harry had decided to go to the library to work on homework. Bryt didn't feel like joining, so she headed back to the common room on her own. She glanced at the notice board as she entered the common room—Angelina had put up a date for tryouts for a new Seeker and new Beaters, the day being on the last Wednesday of the term. Bryt had seen it that morning and had been thinking all day about if she wanted to try out.

Bryt saw Ginny sitting at a table in one corner of the room and made her way over, dropping her mini backpack on the ground before sitting down.

"Hi, Bryt," Ginny said with a grin, "Did you see the notice board about the Quidditch tryouts?"

Bryt nodded, brushing the strands of her headband over her shoulder.

"I haven't decided if I want to give it a go yet, though," she said, "It just kinda feels...wrong. I've always wanted to play Beater, but not with Fred and George here. There's no way I can compete with them."

"I know, I've been feeling the same way," Ginny said, twirling her quill between her fingers, "I really want to play Chaser, but I've been thinking about trying out for Seeker...It'd really help me get used to flying with a team and all, considering I never got to fly with my brothers during holidays."

"They're going to be surprised when they find out you can fly just as good as they do," Bryt said with a smirk. Ginny grinned in response.

"We should both go with it, you know," she said, "Trying out. I'll feel better about it knowing you're going for the team, too. Who knows? Maybe we'll both get in and get to play together."

Bryt ran her fingers over her bracelet as she thought it over. Playing Beater was something she really wanted to do, but it still felt like she was taking it away from Fred and George. She wouldn't even be having this chance if they hadn't been banned. Still, she loved the idea of putting on the Gryffindor Quidditch robes and heading out onto the field, hearing the entire House cheering on her team, instead of being one of the ones in the stands...

"Yeah, let's go for it," Bryt said, looking back up with Ginny, "We can even practice together if you want. It's nastily cold out there, but we could still use the practice before these tryouts."

"Sounds good to me," Ginny said, "Are you planning to tell Ron you're trying out?"

"He told me about him trying out," Bryt said, "It's only fair I tell him. Besides, it won't feel right keeping it from him. He already knows I'd like to play Beater."

Ginny nodded, looked down at her assignment, then back up at Bryt.

"Mind helping me with this?" she asked, motioning to the parchment, "It's Potions, and you're good at that."

"Sure," Bryt said with a laugh, "Here, let me see what you have so far."

Bryt spent the next half hour helping Ginny improve her Potions assignment. They had just finished the work when Ron came in. He saw Bryt and Ginny and made his way over to them, sitting down.

"I know why your brother hangs around that Natalie girl," he said, looking at Bryt, "She's a lot like you."

"What?" Bryt asked, staring at Ron in surprise.

"I realized it while I was watching the second years," Ron said, "She's an annoying, stubborn little snotrag."

"Gee, thanks for the complement," Bryt said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"What?" Ron asked, taken aback, "Oh, no, I didn't mean that you're like that...At least, not anymore...But, you, er...You were kind of...Well, annoying at times when we were second years."

Bryt raised her eyebrow at Ron as Ginny sighed, shaking her head.

"I, er...I didn't mean it like that, either!" Ron said, holding up his hands defensively, "I mean, it was in a good way—we were used to it and didn't mind it. And you're definitely not as bad anymore...Not that you were ever bad...but—"

"Ron, just save yourself and shut up," Ginny said, not looking up from her essay. Ron closed his mouth and nodded, watching Bryt with a cautious look. Bryt couldn't help herself. She started laughing, shaking her head. She didn't know why, but Ron trying to scramble like this had just been a bit too amusing.

"It's fine, Ron," Bryt said, "Don't worry about it. I'm well aware that I'm a bit of a pain at times."

Ron looked relieved at that as he relaxed in his chair some. Bryt shook her head, still grinning.

"Where's Hermione?" she asked.

"Patrol with Filch," Ron said, "I don't envy her."

"No kidding," Ginny and Bryt chorused.

"Harry's in the library," Bryt added before Ron could ask, "And Ginny and I were talking about Quidditch. I'm planning on trying out for Beater."

"That's good," Ron said, the same edge to his voice that always came when Quidditch was brought up now—he was still in a bad mood over how he performed in the first match the month before.

Bryt decided to let the subject drop at that, not in the mood to try and convince Ron that he wasn't a bad player. Instead, she pulled out her own homework to get a start on that.

**xxxxx**

For the rest of the term, Bryt spent a lot of free time out on the pitch with Ginny for them to practice. Even with the cold, Bryt was enjoying getting to fly. Not wanting to risk using the Bludgers or the Snitch, Bryt and Ginny trained in a bit of an unconventional way. They used a charm to toughen the Quaffle and Ginny would toss it while Bryt chased it, whacking it with her bat. Bryt felt like she was pretty good at the position, but still doubted she'd be as good as the Weasley Twins. Still, she felt like she could definitely hold her own, and she and Ginny were both great flyers.

The tryouts were after dinner on the last Wednesday of the term and Bryt and Ginny both headed down together with Ron. He was glad that they were only Beater and Seeker tryouts because it meant that he didn't have to try and be Keeper, but he still had to go down for the tryouts since he was part of the team. Harry decided not to come down—opting instead to go prepare the Room of Requirement for their final DA meeting of the term.

Despite knowing she was a good player, Bryt was still nervous going into the tryouts. Angelina started them off with flying laps around the pitch to see who could fly the best, then started with the Beaters. The Chasers would be in the air while those trying out for Beater would be paired into twos, alternating between defending the players and trying to hit them with the Bludgers. As Bryt watched the pairs before her, she felt sadly much more confident in her own tryout. How could it have been that Fred and George were the only decent Beaters in the entire Gryffindor house? Bryt wasn't sure who was the worst—the sixth year who missed the Bludger entirely and ended up instead hitting Alicia in the back with his bat, or the fourth year who made a wild dive for a Bludger and ended up falling off her broom because she tried to use both hands to swing and forgot to grip the broom with her knees.

Finally, Bryt's turn came and she was paired with a third year boy named Jack Sloper. It started with Bryt being the offense, aiming the Bludgers towards the team while Sloper had to defend them. Bryt gripped her bat in her hand and pushed herself into the air, enjoying the feeling of flying. Once at the right height, she looked down, waiting for Angelina to release the Bludger.

Chasing after the Bludger was much different than chasing a Quaffle. The Bludger seemed to have a mind of its own, but usually stayed on a straight path once it set sights on a player. This made it a bit easier for Bryt to chase it down and get a good swing with her bat. She missed it a couple of times, and a few of the shots she did make ended up going wide, but she still felt she did better than the other students trying out. After fifteen minutes, she and Sloper switched sides and Bryt's task became a lot more difficult. She wasn't aiming to hit, but aiming to protect. Though Sloper was better than others, he was still quite bad. He missed the Bludger more times than he hit it, and very few of his shots were on target. Bryt often had to fly quite a distance away from any player to reach the Bludger to hit it back. After another fifteen minutes of that, Angelina called their turn to an end and Bryt landed, her arm feeling a bit sore. She figured if she got on the team, she'd be used to it soon enough.

Bryt went to sit in the stands while it was time for the Seeker tryouts, wondering when Ginny would have her turn. Angelina was taking them one at a time, releasing the Snitch and timing how long it took them to catch it. Instead of having the entire team out, Angelina was testing the Seekers alone, so the rest of the team soon landed. Not long after, Ron sat down next to Bryt.

"You're pretty good," he said.

"Thanks," Bryt replied with a bit of a grin, "Not nearly as good as Fred and George, though. I screwed up a lot."

"Not nearly as much as everyone else," Ron replied, "These people are even worse than I am."

"You're not a bad player, Ron," Bryt said with a sigh, "It's just a confidence thing. You're great when the pressure doesn't get to you."

"Thanks," Ron muttered, though he seemed doubtful as he turned to watch the sixth year girl who was taking her turn.

The two sat in silence after that, and Bryt had to admit, the Seeker tryouts at least went better than with the Beaters. The students trying out seemed to at least had a good idea of what they were doing. It took nearly an hour for all of the students to try out, and when it was all done, Angelina called for all trying out to meet her in the locker room.

"I'll be back in a bit," Bryt told Ron, kissing him lightly on the cheek before heading down the stands and meeting Ginny just outside the locker room.

"Well, here we go," Ginny said, looking nervous, "Good luck."

"Same to you," Bryt replied with a grin, then headed in. The rest of the group who had been trying out were sitting on benches, looking at each other nervously. Bryt and Ginny stood together off to the side.

"Well, the tryouts went...Good," Angelina said, an odd look on her face. She obviously thought they had been a disaster, "I've got a good idea on all of your skills and have made my decision. To save time, as I know there will be other places we'd all rather be—" Bryt could have sworn Angelina glanced to them at this and knew they were all thinking about the DA meeting. "—I'll just tell everyone at once. Congratulations, Ginny Weasley, Bryt Watkins, and Jack Sloper. You're all dismissed."

Angelina headed out of the locker room at that, apparently not wanting to prolong this any longer. Bryt looked over at Ginny and hugged her.

"Congratulations," they both said together, both grinning brightly. After having watched the others, Bryt had suspected she would get on the team after watching everyone else, but it was still great knowing for sure.

"Come on, we have somewhere to get to," Bryt said, motioning for the door. Ginny nodded and the two headed out together to find Ron waiting.

"We're both in," Bryt said, looping her arm around one of his, "We're teammates now."

Ron grinned at them.

"Well, at least you're decent players," he said, "Maybe we'll manage to win a match even without Harry, Fred, and George."

"Glad to know you have confidence in us," Bryt said, rolling her eyes as they started for the castle.

**xxxxx**

Their final DA meeting of the term turned out to be reviewing spells they'd already learned as Harry didn't feel they should learn anything new right before a three-week break. As Bryt practiced Stunning and Freezing jinxes with Ron, she also checked on her brothers and their friends. It was amazing how much they had all improved—especially for a group of second years. Most of these spells Bryt hadn't even herd of until her fourth year, and even then it was through her own research to help Harry in the Triwizard Tournament. Unfortunately, Bryt noticed Mike seemed to enjoy Stunning Natalie a little too much. At least she was just as good and often got her revenge on her own turns.

"You're getting really good," Harry told them at the end of the practice, "When we get back from the holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff—maybe even Patronuses."

Bryt grinned at Ron and Hermione at that idea as the room began to empty out. The three stayed behind for a couple of minutes to help put away cushions, but when they noticed that Harry and Cho were the only ones left with them, they decided to head out and give the two privacy—Bryt privately wishing Harry luck.

"I wonder what my Patronus will be," Bryt said as they made their way to the common room, "It'll be interesting to see, won't it?"

"I know, I've been curious ever since Julio talked to me about it during the summer," Hermione said, "Salem teaches students Patronuses in their sixth year, so he's been able to cast one for a while. It'll be interesting to see what we get, won't it?"

Bryt nodded, remembering Julio telling her in a letter the year before about how proud he was of his owl Patronus. Bryt turned to Ron with a smirk.

"Knowing me, I'll get something stubborn and annoying," she teased and Ron blushed, looking away. Bryt laughed as she hugged onto one of Ron's arms and Hermione looked confused.

"It's nothing," Bryt said with a grin as they reached the common room and had to drop their conversation so they wouldn't be overheard by other students.

The three settled themselves near the fire and Hermione pulled out her two-way diary to talk with Julio. Ron and Bryt reluctantly decided to work on their Transfiguration homework and stretched out across the floor, side-by-side, to work together. Every now and then, Ron would reach over and point out some mistake Bryt had made, smirking at her. He was always proud of the fact he was better at Transfiguration than Bryt was—of course, that wasn't exactly a huge feat considering Bryt was probably the worst of her year when it came to the subject.

Over the next hour, the common room slowly emptied around them and it wasn't until some time after the final person headed to bed and Bryt and Ron were about halfway through their assignment when Harry finally returned from the Room of Requirement. Bryt and Ron exchanged a smirk, having a good idea what had kept Harry so long.

"You were out late," Bryt said as Harry sat down. He simply nodded, a dazed look on his face.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked, looking up from the two-way diary.

Harry shrugged. Bryt and Ron both put down their quills and sat up to see him better from over the table between them.

"Something happen with Cho?" Bryt asked and Harry blinked at her in surprise, but nodded. Ron laughed and Bryt shot him a warning look.

"So, what happened?" Ron asked, obviously struggling to sound casual.

"She...She er..."

"Did you kiss?" Hermione asked and Ron leaned forward on his knees.

"Well?" he asked, sounding way too interested. Bryt sighed. She was curious about how things went, but Ron was going a bit overboard.

Harry looked around at them and gave another small nod. Ron laughed, punching his fist into the air, and Bryt hit him upside the head. Ron gave her an odd looked, watching far too pleased to be angry, then turned back to Harry.

"Well? How was it?"

"Ron!" Bryt hissed, hitting him again, "How would you like it if someone asked us how our snogging time went?"

Ron went red and seemed to deflate with that, sinking back again and ducking his head slightly.

"Well, I'm happy for you, Harry," Bryt said, turning back to her friend, "You planning on seeing her again?"

"I'll have to, won't I?" Harry asked, seeming to finally come out of his daze, "We've got DA meetings, haven't we?"

"Not what I meant," Bryt said, rolling her eyes, "Just ask her out. Maybe to the next Hogsmeade visit." Harry looked almost horrified at the idea and Bryt sighed. "Look, you just have to pluck up the courage and go for it. Worked for me and Ron, didn't it?"

Harry gave a small nod, just staring off at the fire. They all seemed eager to leave the subject at that and returned to what they had been doing before. They all sat in silence for another half hour until Bryt and Ron had finally finished their assignments.

"I'm going to bed," Bryt said, rolling up her essay as she sat up. She gave Ron a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and looking at Hermione, "Coming?"

"Yes, I was just saying goodbye with Julio," Hermione said as she closed her book, standing up herself, "Good night, boys."

"Night," Harry and Ron answered.

Bryt and Hermione headed up the stairs and into their dormitory, quickly changing clothes and crawling into bed. Before going to sleep, Bryt pulled out her diary to put down what had happened that day. Overall, everything had been good. Bryt and Ginny both made the Gryffindor Quidditch team—even though neither would have had the chance if it weren't for power-hungry Umbridge banning Fred, George, and Harry. The final DA meeting had gone very nicely, and Harry seemed to be finally heading in a good direction with Cho. Today had definitely been a good day. One they deserved and more than needed after the past few months. For once, they were going to bed with nothing happening to ruin it.

Bryt grinned as she closed her diary and blew out her candle, stretching out across her bed. Finally, things were going right. And only days before she'd be home for Christmas. Hopefully, this would prove to be a good sign and she'd be able to help set things right with her mother. Bryt couldn't wait to get home and see her parents.


	28. Downhill Again

"This ain't righ', we can' stay here," Bryt said for probably the tenth time as she paced around the dormitory. She and Hermione were alone at the moment, though they'd have to head down for classes soon.

But Bryt didn't care about the classes. She and Hermione had been called to Dumbledore's office almost right as they reached the common room that morning—and they both instantly knew something was wrong. It only went worse when Dumbledore told them that Mr. Weasley had been attacked the night before and was now in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The Weasleys and Harry had left that night to go to Grimmauld Place and Bryt and Hermione both wanted to leave right away, but Dumbledore insisted they had to wait for the term to officially end, or else they'd attract far too much attention from Umbridge.

Bryt knew Dumbledore was right, but she was still angry. Mr. Weasley was hurt and Bryt felt her place was with the Weasley family—more specifically, Ron. They couldn't get any word to them to ask if Mr. Weasley was okay. Bryt couldn't imagine what the family was going through, sitting around waiting for any news on if Mr. Weasley would be okay, and Bryt couldn't be there with Ron. She was supposed to be there for him. She was his girlfriend, for Merlin's sake!

And instead, Bryt was pacing around her dormitory, lashing out at nothing. It wasn't the only bad thing, however. Bryt knew she had to spend Christmas with the Weasleys—it wasn't a wanting to be there for Ron. She _had_ to be there for him. This meant, however, that it'd be yet another Christmas she didn't spend at home. It would make that she hadn't spent Christmas with her family since she was eleven years old. How was her mother going to handle that? Would she understand?

_'Maybe she will,'_ Bryt thought, _'She was there for Dad after his parents died, after all. She'll understand, won't she?'_

Bryt hoped more than anything she would.

"Bryt, will you please stop pacing? You're making me nervous."

Bryt turned to Hermione, who was sitting on her bed, yanking a brush through her short-and-curly hair and watching Bryt closely.

"Well, how're we suppose'tah jus' sit 'round in classes all day when we _should_ be with our friends?" Bryt asked sharply. She wasn't angry at Hermione—she was angry at the situation. And frustrated with herself with the situation she was in now—torn between being there for Ron in a moment where she knew he needed her and wanting to be with her family to reassure her mother that she didn't prefer the magical world over her Muggle parents.

_'But how will Mom realize that when I'm staying with the Weasleys for Christmas this year?'_ Bryt thought.

No. This was different. Extreme circumstances. Bryt staying with the Weasleys had nothing to do with the magical world—it had to do with Ron's father being injured and Bryt needing to be there for her boyfriend. Her mother _had_ to understand that.

_'I hope,' _Bryt thought yet again. She'd barely been awake an hour and had already thought herself in circles so many times that she had a headache. Bryt rubbed her hands against her temples, closing her eyes for a moment. Today was going to be a long day.

It started with Bryt having to explain in whispers to her brothers that she couldn't come home for Christmas this year. She had to make sure they couldn't be overheard, but still had to be a bit vague in case someone did. She told them that something had happened and she was needed at the Weasleys' for Christmas, and that their father would most likely know about it by the time they got home. Mike and Drew seemed to understand, but they were still disappointed that Bryt wouldn't be coming home for a fourth year in a row.

Bryt could barely concentrate at all through her classwork and was a bit relieved to notice Hermione seemed distracted as well. The two kept quiet the entire day, and Bryt was sure Hermione's mind was on what happened to Mr. Weasley. It felt like the day lasted weeks and Bryt was relieved when she and Hermione made their way back up to their dormitory that night—though she was sure neither of them would get much sleep. As Bryt had thought, it was well past midnight before she could finally fall asleep that night—and it felt as if she had just gotten to sleep when Hermione was waking her up the next morning.

This day seemed to be even worse. They did get news from McGonagall that Mr. Weasley was doing fine, but they still had to wait until the term officially ended to be able to leave—which meant enduring another long day of classes that they didn't pay any attention to. Bryt was just glad they didn't have Defense Against the Dark Arts. She saw how angry Umbridge seemed at the staff table about Harry and the Weasleys being gone and Bryt didn't want to think about what would happen if she had to face Umbridge either of those days.

When the final class ended, Bryt and Hermione rushed back to their dormitory to get ready to leave, then met with McGonagall, who explained to them about use of the Knight Bus—a way of magical transportation for witches and wizards without access to the Floo Network or portkeys and don't have a license to Apparate.

McGonagall explained they wouldn't have trouble as they had permission to leave, and told them once outside the Hogwarts gates, one of them should lift her wand in the air in front of her to summon the bus, and to tell the bus's driver to take them to Grimmauld Square as they weren't allowed to give the exact address to the Order of the Phoenix.

Bryt told her brothers goodbye, kissing them both on the cheek—much to their annoyance—and wished them a good Christmas.

"Are you sure you can't come home this year?" Drew asked after Bryt hugged her two brothers.

"I already explained this," Bryt told them, "Something came up. This is extremely important. Trust me, I'd rather spend Christmas at home, but I can't. Not this year."

Mike and Drew still looked extremely disappointed.

"Look, I'll make it up to you," Bryt said, feeling awkward since she didn't have to squat in front of them—both her brothers were actually a bit taller than she was now, "Your birthday is the first Saturday of the new term, we'll spend the day together, the three of us, okay? Or us and your friends if you want."

Both Mike and Drew looked pleased by the idea.

"Promise?" they chorused and Bryt nodded, ruffling their hair.

"Promise," she said, "Now I have to go, behave yourselves, okay?"

Mike and Drew nodded and Bryt hugged them one last time before grabbing a hold of her trunk and turning to Hermione. The two headed off, dragging their trunks through the snow until they were outside the castle gates. There, the two exchanged a cautious look before Hermione pulled out her wand and held it up in front of her.

A second later, there was a loud bang that reminded Bryt of a gunshot and both she and Hermione both jumped. In front of them now was a purple triple-decker bus with the words "The Knight Bus" over the windshield in gold letters. Hermione and Bryt exchanged another cautious look, but McGonagall had assured them that the bus would be 'relatively safe', as she put it.

The door to the bus opened and a tall, lanky man who had to be early twenties at most stepped down, dressed in a purple conductor's uniform.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening."

"Um...hi," Hermione said slowly, "Yes...um...Can this bus take us to Grimmauld Square in London?"

"This 'ere bus can take you anywheres you want, 'slong as you got the eleven sickles for the ticket," Stan said with a grin. Bryt and Hermione both fished out the money before grabbing their trunks and cages, heading onto the bus.

Bryt had expected the inside of the bus to be like normal double-decker ones, but she was mistaken. Instead of rows of narrow seats, there were scattered chairs, no two alike, making it seem like they had all been picked up from various yard sales. Some of the chairs were currently knocked over, and a few passengers were picking themselves up off the floor. Bryt and Hermione exchanged a nervous look. It was clear neither of them had a good feeling about this ride.

The two girls had to climb to the third level to fin two empty seats next to each other, Stan following them the entire way. He gave them their tickets before heading back down to the lower levels and Bryt and Hermione sat down—Bryt balancing Joey's cage in her lap while Hermione balanced Crookshanks' cat carrier in hers.

There was another gunshot-like bang and Bryt and Hermione were suddenly thrown back in their chairs. They both let out startled yelps and Bryt wrapped her arms tightly around Joey's cage to try and steady him. The ride was rough from the start—Hermione and Bryt were thrown around, and were literally knocked from their chairs several times. Bryt was sure she'd be bruised not only from the falls, but from the times that Joey's cage rammed into her. The barn owl kept hooting angrily and giving Bryt dirty looks, as if she were the cause of what was happening. Bryt didn't even dare look out the window next to her. She didn't want to see how close they probably kept coming to crashing.

"At least we know why Professor McGonagall only said it was 'relatively' safe," Bryt said after half an hour and ten more getting-off-the-ground moments. She was extremely relieved she and Hermione didn't eat dinner before leaving—Bryt was sure she'd have thrown it back up by now.

"I wonder how much longer until we reach Grimmauld Square," Hermione asked weakly as they were knocked back and the bus started off again. Bryt shrugged in response, but hoped that it'd be soon. She couldn't wait to get off the Knight Bus and found herself wishing they had traveled by portkey instead—and Bryt's last experience with that type of travel had ended with her throwing up. But portkey travel was quick—barely lasted a minute, if even that. This bus ride was like a bad rollercoaster that wouldn't end.

It finally did end, however, after an hour's worth of thrashing around. Bryt and Hermione were relieved when Grimmauld Square was announced and quickly gathered their things, feeling sore as they departed from the bus. They had barely taken two steps down the road when they heard the final bang from the bus and it was gone again.

"I hope I never get on that thing again," Bryt said, checking Joey in his cage. He still looked angry, but at least he seemed uninjured. Bryt turned to Hermione, who was checking on Crookshanks.

"He okay?" she asked and Hermione nodded.

"He's a bit frightened, but he's fine. I'll let him go once we're inside."

Bryt nodded and grabbed her trunk, starting down the street with Hermione. She concentrated hard on the address and slowly, Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place began to appear in the middle of the row of houses. Bryt and Hermione made their way up the steps and rang the doorbell, answered with the muffled sounds of Mrs. Black's portrait screaming in the entranceway.

The screaming was soon muffled and Mrs. Weasley opened the door, looking tired, though she grinned at the girls.

"Oh, you two decided to spend the holidays with us? Well, the more the merrier!" Mrs. Weasley said in a hushed voice as to not wake the portrait again, "Ron and Ginny are up in Ron's room, you can talk to them once you're settled in. I'm afraid Harry's not feeling too well, so please try not to bother him. I'll bring you up some sandwiches in a moment."

Bryt and Hermione exchanged concerned looks before getting their trunks up the stairs and into the room that they had shared with Ginny over the summer. It was obvious Ginny was already using this room again—one of the beds were unmade and Ginny's trunk stood open at the foot of the bed. The two girls pulled off their coats, hats, scarfs, and gloves and Bryt put Joey's cage on top of the wardrobe as Hermione let Crookshanks out of his carrier. The two then headed across the hallway to the room that Harry and Ron had shared during the summer, Bryt knocking on the door.

A second later, the door opened and Ginny was standing there, looking surprised.

"I thought you two were going home for the holidays," she said.

"We both felt we belonged here," Bryt answered, heading straight over to Ron on his bed and sitting next to him, feeling a lot better about just being next to him, "How're you two doing?"

"We visited Dad yesterday and he's doing fine," Ron said, giving Bryt a small grin—which as all she needed to know Ron appreciated her being there. Bryt took Ron's hand in her own, pulling her legs up to sit cross-legged on the bed.

"Mrs. Weasley told us Harry isn't feeling well," Hermione said, sitting with Ginny on the other bed.

"More like hiding from us," Ron replied, "We haven't seen him since we got back from St. Mungo's yesterday."

"Well, how can you blame him after what we overheard?" Ginny asked, "But I still wish he'd stop hiding."

"What're you talking about?" Bryt asked.

Ron and Ginny looked over at each other, then towards Bryt and Hermione.

"We used Fred and George's Extendable Ears to listen in on our parents when they were talking with Tonks and Moody," Ron said, "They were talking about Dad's attack."

"Harry had seen the attack in a dream," Ginny said quietly, "Through the eyes of the snake that attacked Dad."

Bryt tightened her grip on Ron's hand, feeling sick at the thought. No wonder Harry was hiding away. She was strongly reminded of the year before, being placed under the Imperius Curse—that feeling of doing something so against your will and being able to do nothing about it to stop it.

"Moody thinks You-Know-Who is possessing Harry," Ron said quietly and Bryt's sick feeling became even worse. Instantly, she looked over at Ginny, remembering the youngest Weasley's own encounter with that very thing. Ginny looked pale, but didn't show any other signs about what she might be thinking.

"We just want to talk to Harry, but he's locked himself in a room upstairs," she said.

"Think we should drag him out?" Bryt suggested.

"I'll go get him," Hermione said sharply, pushing herself to her feet and headed out of the room, muttering something under her breath.

"Is your mum okay with you being here?" Ron asked, glancing back to Bryt. Bryt sighed.

"I hope she will be," she said, "I just knew I needed to be here this Christmas, you know?"

Mrs. Weasley came into the room then with a large tray of sandwiches, which she placed on the nightstand by one of the beds and gave Bryt a grin before leaving again. Bryt, suddenly realizing how hungry she was, reached over and took one of the sandwiches, taking a large bite of it. She didn't know if it was because she was so hungry or the fact that her nerves were finally settling down, but she thought it was the best sandwich she'd ever had.

A minute later, Hermione came back into the room, Harry right behind. Bryt noticed he looked pale and had dark rings under his eyes, looking as if he hadn't slept at all the past few days. Thinking about what Harry went through, he probably hadn't slept.

"Bryt and I came on the Knight Bus," Hermione was explaining to Harry as she sat next to Ginny, "Dumbledore told us what had happened first thing yesterday morning—"

"We wanted to leave then," Bryt cut in, "But Dumbledore said it was best to wait until the term was over."

"Umbridge is already livid that you lot disappeared under her nose, even though Dumbledore told her Mr. Weasley was in St. Mungo's and he'd given you all permission to visit," Hermione went on, then looked over at Harry, who was leaning against the wall, as far from them as he could manage, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Harry answered shortly. Bryt rolled her eyes.

"Harry, you're not fine," she said, "Ron and Ginny told us you've been hiding yourself away since you got back from St. Mungo's yesterday."

"They did, did they?" Harry asked, glaring between Ron and Ginny. Ron looked down quickly, but Ginny just stared back.

"Well, you have!" she said, "And you won't look at any of us!"

"It's you lot who won't look at me!"

"Maybe you're taking turns to look and keep missing each other," Hermione said with a bit of a smirk and Bryt stared at her. That was something she'd have expected from Sofí. Hermione making a comment like that was just a bit strange.

"Very funny," Harry snapped.

"Oh, stop feeling all misunderstood," Hermione shot back—again sounding a bit too much like Sofí.

"Harry, listen," Bryt spoke up before Hermione's "Sofí talk" could venture into the 'creepy' area, "Ron and Ginny told us what you all overheard with the Extendable Ears—"

"Yeah?" Harry cut in, turning his back on them, "All been talking about me, have you? Well, I'm getting used to it..."

"Well, what else are do you expect when you refuse to let anyone talk to you?" Bryt put in.

"I didn't want anyone to talk to me," Harry said and Bryt had the strong urge to throw something at him. She was just about to tell him he had no right to be angry at anyone talking about him when he wouldn't even talk to them when Ginny spoke up again.

"Well, that's a bit stupid of you," she said hotly, "Seeing as you don't know anyone but me who's been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels."

It was as if all air had been sucked from the room as everyone stared at Ginny—even Harry had turned from the window finally. No one said anything and no one moved, as if they'd all been suddenly hit with the Impediment Jinx. Bryt, again, thought about three years before with Ginny's experience with the diary Voldemort had when he had still been Tom Riddle and everything that had happened with the Chamber of Secrets. It was obvious Ginny was thinking about it as well because, aside from glaring at Harry, her face was pale and she was sitting quite tense on the bed.

"I forgot," Harry finally spoke up, seeming to break the silent hold on the room. Ron stirred uncomfortably next to Bryt and she gripped his hand tighter for a second, still watching Ginny.

"Lucky you," the youngest Weasley said, staring intently at Harry.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, sounding much quieter now and looking quite embarrassed, "So...so do you think I'm being possessed, then?"

"Well, can you remember everything you've been doing?" Ginny asked instantly, as if she'd been rehearsing this conversation, "Are there big blank periods where you don't know what you've been up to?"

Harry stayed silent, obviously lost in thought.

"No," he finally said.

"Then You-Know-Who hasn't ever possessed you," Ginny said, sounding very sure of herself—and she had every right to be considering what she'd been through, "When he did it to me, I couldn't remember what I'd been doing for hours at a time. I'd find myself somewhere and not know how I got there."

"That dream I had about your dad and the snake, though—"

"Harry, you've had those dreams before," Hermione cut in, "You had flashes of what Voldemort was up to last year."

"This was different," Harry said slowly, "I was inside that snake. It _was_ like I was the snake...What if Voldemort somehow transported me to London—"

"Harry, some day you'll finally listen to Hermione," Bryt said, "You can't Apparate or Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds."

Hermione shot Bryt a grateful look, probably pleased that at least one of her friends paid attention to what she said.

"You didn't leave your bed, mate," Ron said, "I saw you thrashing around in your sleep about a minute before we could wake you up..."

Harry started pacing around the room, though Bryt could see he was starting to look relieved. He was even starting to grin a bit as he picked up one of the sandwiches from the plate. Bryt felt a wave of relief. Harry wasn't being possessed. He had only had a visit dream about what Voldemort had been up to—simply like the dreams he had during the year before, though Harry probably would have thought this dream was a lot worse. Bryt couldn't help but feel grateful that Harry _had_ had the dream, however. If Harry hadn't had the dream, Mr. Weasley would have—

_'No, I'm not going to think about that,'_ Bryt thought, looking at Ron next to her. Mr. Weasley was fine now and Bryt was going to enjoy her holiday here. After everything that'd happened since last June, they all needed to have a good holiday.


	29. Holidays at Grimmauld Place

Bryt, despite being around her friends, had a hard time enjoying the holidays. True, it was a lot of fun helping decorate Grimmauld Place to the point that it was unrecognizable though the garlands of holly, streamers, and occasional mistletoe—that Fred and George thought would be amusing to trap Bryt and Ron under and wouldn't let them leave until they kissed in front of all of them—and Sirius was in a very good mood at the idea of company for Christmas, but no matter how much fun the work was, Bryt was constantly thinking about how her family was doing and how she'd rather be home with them. More than once, she wondered if she should have just gone home after learning that Mr. Weasley was doing okay—but then she'd look over at Ron and see him grin back at her and remind herself she was here for him.

Bryt woke up late on Christmas morning, again thinking about Christmas at home. She laid in bed, the blankets pulled over her head, thinking about how she would have been up hours ago—thanks to her brothers coming and waking her up for breakfast. She'd be smelling her mother's pancakes in the kitchen—Watkins family tradition. Pancakes were always Christmas Morning Breakfast. She knew that the family would be done with breakfast together by now and were probably nearly done opening presents as well—if they hadn't already finished.

Bryt sighed, missing Christmas at home more and more as she finally sat up and noticed Hermione and Ginny were both already awake, in the process of opening their own presents.

"Good morning!" Hermione said brightly, "Thank you so much for the book, Bryt. I've been wanting to find a new Ancient Runes book for a while."

"Thank you for mine as well," Ginny said with a grin, holding up the Quidditch Book _History of the Holyhead Harpies_ that held a moving picture of the all-female Quidditch team flying around a pitch.

"No problem," Bryt said, looking at her own pile at the foot of her bed. She kept her blankets pulled up over her lap as she picked up the first one, which was from her family and had a note attached. Bryt swallowed, picking up the note nervously before unfolding it and seeing her father's handwriting scrawled across the page:

_Merry Christmas, Bryt. We all wish you were here, but we understand why you can't be. (Even your mother, though she doesn't want to admit that out loud. I know she understands.) Take care, and wish Arthur well for me next time you see him. Love, Dad, Mom, Mike, and Drew._

Bryt felt a mix of guilt and relief. She trusted her father when he said that her mother understood why she was with the Weasleys, but at the same time, she still wanted to be home with her family. She wanted to enjoy breakfast while joking about family Christmases in the past and sitting on the floor with her brothers while opening presents. Though she knew her father was right about her mother understanding, Bryt also knew that things weren't going to simply be easy. Bryt vowed then that, no matter what, she'd spend both the summer and Christmas holidays at home for now on. It didn't matter how much Dumbledore thought Bryt would be needed to stay at the Weasleys or at the Order Headquarters, she would stay home. If Bryt was desperately needed for something, she'd just have to visit temporarily. She was tired of sacrificing her home life for the very little—if anything at all—she contributed to with the Order.

Bryt pushed back the thoughts. It was Christmas, she was supposed to be happy. Though even as Bryt started unwrapping her presents, she wasn't sure how happy she'd be today. They were planning on visiting Mr. Weasley today and, though Bryt was looking forward to seeing the man, she wasn't looking forward to visiting a hospital—magical or otherwise. Ever since her grandmother had died years ago, Bryt didn't like hospitals. She hated the smell of antiseptic and hated the sound of heart monitors and breathing machines. She knew the magical world wouldn't have things like that, but it was still a hospital. She doubted it'd be much different.

Bryt had a pretty good haul of presents this year. A box of butterscotch candy from home, along with a new set of hat and gloves—Bryt was grateful for that. Her old gloves had a few holes in them. As usual, Bryt got unwanted jewelry from her maternal grandparents and Bryt tossed the jewelry down into her trunk with a roll of her eyes before moving on. From the García family came a new Fitchburg Finches pin—Bryt's old one had accidentally been tossed into the Gryffindor fire when cleaning away loose parchment one afternoon—and a new broom compass. Ginny and Hagrid both gave her a package of Pumpkin Pasties, Harry gave her a new book on magical creatures while Hermione got a talking homework planner and the usual scented candle—this one pumpkin pie.

Bryt's last present was from Ron, which she was a bit worried about. After all, this was their first Christmas as a couple and Bryt was hoping it wouldn't be a repeat of her birthday the year before—Ron had thought that being a couple automatically meant he had to go for romantic gifts and seemed to forget how tomboyish Bryt was and had gotten her a bottle of strong-smelling perfume that, honestly, made Bryt gag. She managed to break it to Ron gently that she didn't want romantic gifts, that she was perfectly fine with the normal type of gifts that he'd been getting her for years before. Ron also seemed a bit relieved about that.

Luckily, Ron's gift was not only normal, but very practical: a book called _The Beater's Bible_. That one would definitely come in handy now that Bryt was a part of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Bryt, Ginny, and Hermione all got dressed quickly and Bryt pinned her new Fitchburg Finches badge to her mini backpack before heading downstairs, Hermione grabbing the wrapped package she and Bryt were planning to give Kreacher. The three were halfway down the hall when Harry and Ron came out of their room. Ginny headed on ahead while Hermione and Bryt hung back, Bryt giving Ron a kiss and thanked both boys for their presents—Bryt had decided not to continue her old tradition with Harry, deciding to leave a kiss on the cheek for just her father and brothers for now on.

"Who's that for?" Ron asked, pointing to the package Hermione was carrying.

"Kreacher," the girls replied together as they started down the stairs.

"It had better not be clothes! You know what Sirius said, Kreacher knows too much, we can't set him free!"

"We know that," Bryt snapped, "It's a quilt Hermione made."

"We thought it would brighten up his bedroom," Hermione added.

"What bedroom?" Harry asked in a whisper as they passed Mrs. Black's covered portrait.

"Well, Sirius says it's not so much a bedroom, more kind of—den," Hermione said, "Apparently, he sleeps under the boiler in that cupboard off the kitchen."

"Not much of a bedroom," Bryt said bitterly.

They entered the kitchen and noticed Mrs. Weasley was the only one there, working on making lunch. Again, Bryt thought about how if she were home, she would have long-since been up and had eaten her mother's pancakes. Bryt turned away and followed her friends to one corner of the pantry just off the kitchen.

"Maybe we should knock," Hermione said slowly as they all squatted around the door.

Ron hesitated, then reached over and gave the door one quick knock. After no one replied, Ron slowly pulled open the door, then let out a noise of disgust. Bryt wrinkled her nose as she was hit with the smell of something she was sure had died somewhere in the hole some time before. Covering her nose, Bryt leaned forward a bit to take a better look at Kreacher's room. In the tiny space left under the boiler sat a pile of filthy old rags and old, molded food—Bryt wondered if that was actually the smell she was hit with—and in the back corner was a pile of the trinkets Kreacher had salvaged from the cleaning attempts. Front-and-center of the pile was a black-and-white picture of a woman with a mess of dark hair and had a haunting look to her that gave Bryt an odd chill. She turned away from the picture as Hermione placed the wrapped quilt in the center of Kreacher's pathetic nest.

_'I can't believe that Sirius lets Kreacher live like this,'_ Bryt thought bitterly as they left Kreacher's den.

As if knowing what they were doing, Sirius suddenly appeared in the doorway of the pantry just as the four turned around. Bryt tensed slightly, then reminded herself that Sirius couldn't know what she was thinking and let herself relax.

"Has anyone actually seen Kreacher lately?" Sirius asked, a large turkey in his arms.

"I haven't seen him since the night we came back here," Harry said, "You were ordering him out of the kitchen."

Sirius frowned.

"I think that's the last time I saw him, too...He must be hiding upstairs somewhere..."

_'Can't blame him, considering the way you treat him,'_ Bryt thought, biting down on her tongue to keep from saying so out loud. She argued with Sirius enough over the summer and, considering how poorly her Christmas was going already, she didn't want to get into an argument now.

"He couldn't have left, could he?" Harry asked, "I mean, when you said 'out', maybe he thought you meant 'get out of the house'?"

"No, no, house elves can't leave unless given clothes, they're tied to their family's house."

"They can leave if they really wanted to," Harry said, "Dobby did, he left the Malfoys' to give me warnings three years ago. He had to punish himself afterward, but he still managed it."

Sirius looked worried for a moment, then waved them off. Bryt felt another jab of annoyance. Just once, she wished Sirius would take them seriously when it didn't involve them breaking rules at Hogwarts.

Luckily, Bryt didn't have to talk with Sirius that morning, thus avoiding a chance for any arguments. Mundungus, Lupin, and Mad-Eye had come over for lunch—as they'd be escorting the Weasleys, plus Harry, Hermione, and Bryt, to St. Mungo's that afternoon—and Sirius spent the meal talking with Mundungus and Lupin.

After lunch, everyone bundled up before heading outside. Bryt noticed Mundungus had found a car for them to use—she tried hard not to think about where the car could have come from—and used an Enlarging Spell on it so they could all fit inside.

The ride was quiet and was faster than Bryt expected—probably due to the little traffic. When they came to a stop, Bryt recognized the street they were on. She'd been here a few times with her family to help with shopping—again, Bryt felt the pang of longing to be at home, which she tried to push away again.

Bryt looked around curiously. After all, they were on a usually-crowded Muggle street. Where would the wizarding world had managed to hide a hospital in a place like this?

Their group got out of the car and started along the street towards the large, multi-story, abandoned department store. Bryt had learned years ago from some locals that the place never opened and no one ever expected it to be. Rumor had it the place went bankrupt, but the owners refused to sell the building itself so claimed to close it for 'remodeling' and never went back to it.

Bryt was surprised when they stopped right in front of the store and Mrs. Weasley walking towards the broken dummy in an outdated, neon green dress. Bryt tried not to let her surprise show on her face, however, as Mrs. Weasley leaned forward, saying something that Bryt couldn't quite hear. A second later, she walked right through the window, disappearing. Bryt's eyes widened, but no one seemed to notice as they followed behind. Bryt suddenly realized what it was. The magical world had hidden the hospital in plain sight, much like how Diagon Alley or Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters was hidden. Bryt moved forward nervously, knowing that she was about to step into a hospital—a type of place she was hoping to never be in again. Still, she was here to see Mr. Weasley. Taking a deep breath, Bryt closed her eyes and stepped through the barrier.


	30. A Gloomy Christmas

Bryt's first impression was that a wizarding hospital wasn't much different than a normal one—it just seemed a bit noisier. The reception area was large and open, the only thing giving it a different feel being the Christmas decorations all over. Of course, she'd never been in a hospital around Christmas. Muggle hospitals most likely decorated for Christmas as well.

_'At least it doesn't smell like a Muggle hospital,'_ Bryt thought with relief, though she reached out and took Ron's hand, instinctively moving closer to him as they made their way past the desk marked 'Inquires'. Bryt kept her gaze in front of her, only turning to watch a couple of wizards in lime-green robes passing by them. As they started through a hallway, Bryt was sure the pictures of healers on the walls were watching them, but Bryt didn't pay them any mind. She noticed Hermione, however, was staring at everything with a look that showed she was trying to memorize as much as possible—Bryt wondered how much of it was Hermione's own curiosity and how much Hermione was taking in to tell Julio about later.

Bryt did her best not to look around herself—it was easier for her to pretend they were somewhere else. She could act like she wasn't walking through the hall of a hospital with the odd sounds and smells coming from the rooms they passed.

They soon reached the room that Mr. Weasley was in—Bryt glanced around briefly at this and relaxed slightly as she realized it seemed very similar to the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts: A line of beds with screens around them. Bryt noticed only one other person was in here, aside from Mr. Weasley, and it was a man sitting on one of the beds, eyeing them carefully as they came in.

"Dad said he was bitten by a werewolf," Ron whispered to Bryt, noticing her stare as they started across the room where Mr. Weasley was by the window. Bryt felt a huge wave of pity for the stranger and gave him a small grin as they passed. She couldn't help but wonder if he had any visitors today.

"Everything all right, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley asked as they reached Mr. Weasley, putting down their presents next to Mr. Weasley's mostly-empty tray of food. Bryt studied the man, feeling relieved that he looked perfectly fine—yes, he had bandages showing underneath his shirt, but he was sitting up fine and grinning brightly at them.

"Fine, fine," Mr. Weasley said happily, "You—er—haven't seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?"

"No, why?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her look so much like a mother who knew her child had done something wrong and was trying to hide it.

"Nothing, nothing," Mr. Weasley said quickly, starting to go through the gifts, "Well, everyone had a good day? What did you all get for Christmas?" Before anyone could answer, Mr. Weasley had finished unwrapping Harry's gift, which was a box full of fuse wires and screwdrivers, "Oh, Harry—this is absolutely _wonderful_!"

_'Then wait until he opens Dad's,'_ Bryt thought with a small smirk, thinking about how her father had sent Mr. Weasley's present to Bryt for her to deliver—apparently, it was a Muggle tape recorder. Mr. Weasley would definitely enjoy figuring that one out.

"Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said sharply when Mr. Weasley leaned over to shake Harry's hand, "You've had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur? They told me they wouldn't need doing until tomorrow."

"What?" Mr. Weasley looked over at his wife, pulling his covers tighter around him as if a stranger just walked in on him while he was nude, "No, no—it's nothing—it's—I—"

Bryt already knew this wasn't going to end well. She glanced over at Ron, who looked somewhere between amused and worried.

"Well—now don't get upset, Molly," Mr. Weasley said slowly, "But Augustus Pye had an idea...He's the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap and very interested in...um...complementary medicine...I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies...well, they're called _stitches_, Molly, and they work very well on—on Muggle wounds."

Mrs. Weasley made an odd noise and Bill, Fred, and George suddenly jumped to their feet, claiming they wanted some tea and hurried out of the room. Lupin stood as well, heading over towards the man nearby. Bryt glanced around at her friends. She knew stitches usually worked—after all, she had had them herself—but her injury had been a normal Muggle one, not the bite from some most likely magically enhanced snake.

"Do you mean to tell me that you have been messing about with Muggle remedies?" Mrs. Weasley asked sharply, pulling herself up to full height—Bryt was reminded of all the times she'd seen Mrs. Weasley scolding Fred and George over the summer.

"Not messing about, Molly dear," Mr. Weasley said cautiously, "It was just—just something Pye and I thought we'd try—only, most unfortunately—well, with these particular kinds of wounds—it doesn't seem to work as well as we'd hoped—"

"Meaning?"

"Well...well, I don't know whether you know what—what stitches are?"

"It sounds like you've been trying to sew your skin back together," Mrs. Weasley said with an odd laugh, "But even you, Arthur, wouldn't be _that_ stupid."

_'Oh crap,'_ Bryt thought, jumping to her feet as Harry said he wanted some tea. Bryt, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all followed Harry quickly out of the room, just barely making it through the doors when we heard Mrs. Weasley scream out "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?"

"Typical Dad," Ginny said, shaking her head as they started down the hall, "Stitches...I ask you..."

"They usually work, though," Bryt said, reaching up to trace the scar on her shoulder, "I've had them before, after I fell out of a tree."

"This the same one you broke your leg jumping out of?" Ron asked.

"No, this was when I was six, not nine," Bryt replied. Ron snorted.

"Bryt you need to learn to stay away from trees."

Bryt rolled her eyes, though she had to admit, Ron was right. Half the injures Bryt got when she was younger was due to climbing around in—or jumping out of—trees. Not to mention when she broke a cheekbone because of the Whomping Willow a year and a half ago. It definitely seemed trees weren't her friends. It was a miracle that Bryt didn't have a fear of heights after all the accidents she's had.

"I wonder where the tea room is?" Hermione asked.

"Fifth floor," Harry said.

Bryt kept her hand grasped around Ron's as they headed down the hallways, Bryt trying to ignore the smells and determined not to glance in any rooms. She was nervous enough about the fact she was in a hospital—she was determined to pretend she was elsewhere, anything to distract herself from where they were.

This became hard, however, when they started up a set of stairs and had the portraits shouting out horrible-sounding remedies to odd diseases they seemed to think they had—one claimed that Ron had a serious case of spattergroit.

"And what's that supposed to be?" Ron snapped after it became clear that they weren't going to evade this portrait man.

"'Tis a most grievous affliction of the skin, young master, that will leave you pockmarked and more gruesome even than you are now—"

"He's not gruesome!" Bryt snapped as Ron's ears went red.

"The only remedy is to take the liver of a toad, bind it tight about your throat, stand naked by the full moon in a barrel of eels' eyes—"

"I haven't got spattergroit!" Ron snapped.

"But the unsightly blemishes upon your visage, young master—"

"They're freckles! Now get back in your own picture and leave me alone!"

Ron spun around, giving the others a look as if he dared them to say anything. Bryt, desperate for anything to distract herself from the hospital round her, couldn't help herself.

"Don't worry, Ron," she said with a small smirk, "I like your 'unsightly blemishes'."

Harry and Ginny both snorted and Hermione gave a small smile that she was obviously trying to hide. Ron made an odd noise, turning and muttering something under his breath as they reached the top of the stairs. He didn't let go of Bryt's hand, though, so she knew he wasn't too annoyed with her.

"What floor is this?" Ron asked, looking around.

"I think it's the fifth," Hermione answered.

"Nah, it's the fourth," Harry said, "One more."

Harry suddenly stopped and Bryt walked into him, stumbling back some. She was about to ask what was wrong, but cut herself off as she saw her herself, and her eyes widened in shock. They were a few feet from a set of double doors marked "SPELL DAMAGE" and, peering at them through one of the small windows of the door with unmistakable bright blue eyes, was none other than Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Oh my God," Bryt breathed.

"Professor Lockhart!" Hermione said, her hands over her mouth.

As Lockhart suddenly came out of the room and made his way towards them, Bryt took a step closer to Ron. The last time she had been around Lockhart, he had given her a concussion while attempting to wipe her memories and planning to leave Ginny to die. That wasn't exactly something Bryt was too forgiving about.

"Well, hello there!" Lockhart said happily, "I expect you'd like my autograph, would you?"

_'And it's hard to feel sorry for someone who's still just as arrogant,'_ Bryt thought, wondering how in the world she could have ever admired this man in front of her.

"Er—how are you, Professor?" Ron asked slowly.

"I'm very well indeed, thank you!" Lockhart said, pulling out a quill that had obviously seen better days, "Now, how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writing now, you know!"

_'I wonder if I would get in trouble if I shoved that quill up his nose,'_ Bryt thought, remembering the spell that Lupin had used on Peeves during a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson in her third year. She finally decided it was better not to risk it.

"Er—we don't want any at the moment, thanks," Ron said slowly, looking over at the others. Bryt shrugged in response.

"Professor, should you be wandering around the corridors?" Harry asked, then glancing at the fact Lockhart was in a nightgown, "Shouldn't you be in a ward?"

Lockhart frowned, staring intently at Harry.

"Haven't we met?" he asked slowly. Bryt felt a bit of guilty pleasure as it became obvious that Lockhart still hadn't recovered his memories.

"Er...yeah, we have," Harry said, "You used to teach at Hogwarts, remember?"

"Teach? Me? Did I?" Lockhart asked, looking unsettled. Bryt almost felt pity for him, but it disappeared as Lockhart's grin suddenly returned, "Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I?"

_'You just taught us not to let Cornish Pixies out of a cage,'_ Bryt thought.

"Well, how about those autographs then?" Lockhart went on, "Shall we say a round dozen, you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be left out!"

"He still doesn't know how to take no for an answer," Bryt whispered to Ron, who nodded.

"Gilderoy, you naughty boy, where have you wandered off to?"

Bryt looked over to see a friendly woman in lime-green robes and wearing a wreath around her head like a crown. She noticed Lockhart with the others and she grinned brightly, heading over to them.

"Oh Gilderoy, you've got visitors! How lovely, and on Christmas Day, too! Do you know, he _never_ gets visitors, poor lamb, and I can't think why, he's such a sweetie, aren't you?"

The woman smiled at Lockhart like a mother watching her only child. Bryt thought this woman had to have a whole lot of tolerance to deal with a man like Lockhart on a daily basis.

"We're doing autographs!" Lockhart said, "They want loads of them, won't take no for an answer! I just hope we have enough photographs!"

Bryt bit her tongue to keep from groaning, though she gave Ron a sideways glance and he looked just as annoyed.

"Listen to him," the Healer said, still smiling at Lockhart, "He was rather famous a few years ago; we very much hope that this liking for giving autographs is a sign that his memory might be coming back a little bit."

_'Or he's just naturally a self-absorbed ass,'_ Bryt thought.

"Will you step this way?" the Healer asked, looking around at the five teens, "He's in a closed ward, you know, he must have slipped out while I was bringing in the Christmas presents, the door's usually kept locked...not that he's dangerous, but bit of a danger to himself, bless him...Doesn't know who he is, you see, wanders off and can't remember how to get back...It _is_ nice of you to have come to see him."

"Er, actually we were just..." Ron started, motioning above him to the ceiling, but trailed off as he stared at the woman. Bryt swore she had to be a mother. She had the same uncanny ability to make younger people do what she wanted just with looks she gave them.

So now, they were heading into a long room after the Healer. Bryt glanced around, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. It was obvious this room was for long-term patients. Areas around the occupied beds were decorated in ways that reminded Bryt of the dormitory walls in the Gryffindor tower. There weren't that many in the room, however—aside from Lockhart, there was a woman covered in fur in a way that reminded Bryt of Hermione's Polyjuice Potion accident in their Second Year, a man who was staring at the ceiling and muttering to himself, and two people who were hidden by a curtain around their beds.

"This is our long-term resident ward," the Healer said and Bryt looked back at her, glad for an excuse to look away from the other patients—she really didn't like being in this room, "For permanent spell damage, you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions and charms, and a bit of luck, we can produce some improvement...Gilderoy does seem to be getting back some sense of himself, and we've seen a real improvement in Mr. Bode, he seems to be regaining the power of speech very well, though he isn't speaking any language we recognize yet...Well, I must finish giving out the Christmas presents, I'll leave you all to chat."

"Let's make this very quick," Bryt muttered, not even bothering to sit down. She desperately wanted to be anywhere else but in this room. Hospitals made her uncomfortable as it was, this room only made it a lot worse. Bryt did her best to tune out everything around her, ignoring Lockhart and just closing her eyes, wondering if her family was having a good Christmas and how Sofí and Julio's was going. With the time difference, Sofí'd probably be just waking everyone up and trying to get her mother to cook breakfast. Bryt couldn't wait to see them again once summer came—she, like Sofí, was quite sure that Julio would be moving to London once he finished schooling and Bryt hoped Sofí decided to spend her summer over here again.

"_Neville_!"

Bryt jumped and looked over, surprised. Sure enough, Neville was standing nearby, staring at them with a horrified expression. With Neville was an elderly witch in a very familiar green dress and hat with a vulture on it—this was obviously Neville's grandmother. But what was Neville doing at St. Mungo's, in a ward for permanent patients? Bryt instinctively glanced towards the curtains around the two beds nearby, but quickly looked back to Neville.

"It's us, Neville!" Ron said with a grin, "Have you seen? Lockhart's here! Who've you been visiting?"

Bryt elbowed Ron in the side, glaring at him. Sometimes, he didn't think at all before he spoke. Though Bryt was curious about why Neville was here, she wasn't rude enough to ask about it.

"Friends of yours, Neville, dear?" Mrs. Longbottom asked, studying the group closely in a way that made Bryt feel as if she were being considered for joining some type of club.

Neville went an odd shade of red, staring intently at the floor. Bryt gripped Ron's hand, feeling immensely sorry for her friend. She tried to rack her brain for anything to say, but nothing would come.

"Ah, yes," Mrs. Longbottom said suddenly, staring at Harry, "Yes, I know who you are, of course. Neville speaks most highly of you."

"Er...thanks," Harry said, looking almost as awkward as Neville did now and seemed more intent on watching Neville than talking to Mrs. Longbottom.

"And you two are clearly Weasleys," Mrs. Longbottom said as she shook hands with Ron and Ginny, "Yes, I know your parents—not well, of course—but fine people, fine people...And you two must be Bryt Watkins and Hermione Granger."

Bryt blinked in surprise as Mrs. Longbottom shook her hand.

"Yes, Neville's told me all about you two," she said, "Helped him out of a few sticky spots, haven't you? He's a good boy, but he hasn't got his father's talent, I'm afraid to say..." Mrs. Longbottom nodded towards the beds and Bryt suddenly felt a new wave of understanding and pity. She remembered how violently Neville had reacted months ago to Malfoy making fun of people in St. Mungo's...Bryt couldn't blame him now. She probably would have reacted the same way.

"Is that your dad down at the end, Neville?" Ron suddenly asked, leaning up to look across the room.

"_Ronald_!" Bryt hissed, yanking on Ron's arm to jerk him back down. Neville's family were people, not side-show attractions. Sometimes, Bryt couldn't help but wonder how Ron could be so insensitive at times.

"Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?" Mrs. Longbottom asked.

Neville shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. The only thing that was keeping Bryt from going over and hugging her friend was the fact she felt that it'd just make Neville even more uncomfortable. Bryt gripped Ron's arm tighter, watching Neville and wanting desperately to be anywhere else so that Neville wouldn't be in this uncomfortable situation.

"Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of!" Mrs. Longbottom said hotly, "You should be _proud_, Neville, _proud_! They didn't give their health and sanity so their only son could be ashamed of them, you know!"

"I'm not ashamed," Neville said quietly.

"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it!" Mrs. Longbottom said, then turned to the others, "My son and his wife were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers."

Bryt clamped a hand over her mouth, leaning against Ron, feeling faint. Once again, she remembered something Neville had reacted badly to: Watching Barty Crouch Jr.—then disguised at Mad-Eye Moody—use the Cruciatus Curse on a spider in their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It was now clear why Neville had reacted so badly. The experience showing him what had happened to his parents. Bryt was also horrified about how _proud_ Mrs. Longbottom sounded as she said it, as if there were nothing better than to have a family member who was tortured. How could any person think torture was in any way a good thing?

"They were Aurors, you know," Mrs. Longbottom went on, seeming even prouder now that she saw everyone's reactions—it just made Bryt dislike her more, "Very well respected within the Wizarding community. Highly gifted, the pair of them. I—yes, Alice dear, what is it?"

Bryt looked over to see a small woman with a haunted-looking face and ghostly-white hair nearby, motioning towards Neville. Even with her sickly appearance, she could see the resemblance between this woman and her friend. There was no mistaking that this was Neville's mother. Bryt swallowed hard, again wanting to be anywhere else but here.

"Again?" Mrs. Longbottom asked irritably, "Very well, Alice dear, very well—Neville, take it, whatever it is."

Neville had already held out his hand, however, allowing his mother to give him an empty bubble gum wrapper. Bryt bit her lip, still leaning into Ron, feeling more and more uncomfortable.

"Very nice dear," Mrs. Longbottom said with a quick pat on Alice's shoulder, then the woman headed back towards her bed. Neville looked over at them with a stern look and Bryt stared back, biting on her lip. How could it be that something as small as a bubblegum wrapper had her wanting to cry? Bryt took a deep breath, screwing up her face and fighting hard to hold back the tears.

"Well, we'd better get back," Mrs. Longbottom said, "Very nice to meet you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now..."

Neville, however, pocketed the wrapper as he left, which only made it harder for Bryt to fight back the tears. She somehow managed, however, as she looked around at her friends. She suddenly felt very guilty about complaining about her Christmas situation—even if it was only with herself. How could she be upset about not being home when Neville visited his parents in a hospital, where his parents didn't even know who he was? At least Bryt's family knew her name, knew who she was, and were there for her to talk to whenever she wanted...That was far more than Neville would ever have.

"I never knew," Hermione whispered, her hands over her chest.

"Me either," Bryt and Ginny whispered together.

"Nor did I," Ron added, looking pale.

"I did," Harry whispered, looking uncomfortable, "Dumbledore told me but I promised I wouldn't mention it...That's what Bellatrix Lestrange got sent to Azkaban for, using the Cruciatus Curse on Neville's parents until they lost their minds."

"Bellatrix Lestrange did that?" Hermione whispered, "That woman Kreacher's got a photo of in his den?"

_'That was Bellatrix?'_ Bryt thought, remembering the photo that had given her an odd chill. Bryt was glad that woman was in Azkaban. She never wanted to come face-to-face with a woman who had done something as horrible as torturing people into insanity.

"We should get back," Bryt said quietly, "Before Mrs. Weasley starts looking for us."

The five started back down the corridor, all of them a lot quieter than when they first went in the room. Bryt's mind just kept going over what they had just found out about Neville. This day could have definitely gone better. All in all, this visit just reinforced why Bryt did not like to be in a hospital—magical or otherwise.


	31. Back to Hogwarts

The visit to St. Mungo's seemed to have dampened everyone's moods. Bryt, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny all came to an unspoken agreement that they wouldn't talk about meeting Neville, trying to act as if everything was normal. Bryt found herself both looking forward to and dreading returning to Hogwarts. It would be nice to be away from Grimmauld Place again—and, giving Bryt yet another small jab of guilt as she thought about it, away from Sirius. She was also looking forward to seeing her brothers again and holding true to her promise to spend their birthday completely with them. At the same time, however, Bryt had yet to have a single good day at Hogwarts. At least, never one that didn't have something horrible happen within the same day—she had a feeling it was going to remain that way for the second half of the year.

Bryt had a bit of a distraction for the last half of the holidays by beginning to learn wizard chess—a game Bryt had wanted nothing to do with a few years ago, but had recently became interested in it. By the last day, Bryt had a good grasp of the basics on the game and began having matches with Harry—though Ron insisted on helping. So now, Bryt was curled up in Ron's lap on his bed, staring intently at the chess board as Harry sat on the other side while Ginny and Hermione watched—Hermione trying hard to keep a struggling Crookshanks in her arms. Quite often, Ron advised Bryt against certain moves, to which Ginny would complain that Ron was trying to help Bryt cheat. Ron would reply back that Bryt still didn't have a hang of the game and needed the help—which Bryt agreed with. She still had moments when she tried to put a piece on a square that it couldn't go on, often getting corrected by her friends as well as the chess pieces.

Halfway through their game, the door opened and Bryt glanced out of the corner of her eye to see Mrs. Weasley had come in.

"Harry dear, could you come down to the kitchen?" Mrs. Weasley asked, "Professor Snape would like a word with you."

It took Bryt a moment to completely register what Mrs. Weasley had said. When she did, she jerked her head up and stared at Harry in horror. Harry looked just as shocked and Hermione lost grip of Crookshanks—allowing the cat to jump on the chess board and send the pieces scattering in attempts to hide.

"Snape?" Harry echoed weakly, looking over at Mrs. Weasley.

"_Professor_ Snape, dear," Mrs. Weasley corrected, "Now come on, quickly, he says he can't stay long."

Mrs. Weasley left the room and Harry looked back at the others, still looking confused and horrified.

"What's he want with you?" Ron asked.

"You haven't done anything, have you?" Hermione asked sternly.

"No!" Harry protested loudly, looking even more horrified, then the look turned into one of concentration—probably wondering what was so important that Snape had to talk to him now instead of waiting for tomorrow when they'd be back at Hogwarts.

Harry slowly got up and left the room and the other four looked around at each other.

"I say we try to eavesdrop," Bryt said, getting up. Ron followed behind.

"Shouldn't we clean up the chess board first?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione, are you insane?" Ron asked, "This is much more important!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, though she followed them from the room and down the stairs. Though they had only barely reached the landing when they were distracted from eavesdropping on Harry and Snape. The front door had opened and in came Mr. Weasley—wearing a jacket over a pair of pajamas, and being supported slightly by Bill.

"I'll go tell Fred and George!" Ginny said, grinning brighter than she had all holiday, and took off back up the stairs.

Bryt was grinning herself, relieved that Mr. Weasley was well enough to be back with his family. She, Hermione, and Ron hurried down the stairs and had just reached the last step as Mrs. Weasley came out of a side room, saw her husband, and nearly collapsed on the spot. She rushed forward to hug Mr. Weasley just as Fred, George, and Ginny came hurrying down the stairs.

"Completely cured!" Mr. Weasley said with a grin when Mrs. Weasley let go, speaking quietly since they were right next to Mrs. Black's portrait.

"Healer Smethwyck finally managed to get an antidote," Bill explained, "So Dad was released, and, obviously, I brought him home."

For the first time that holiday, the mood at Grimmauld Place was purely happy. There was no gloom hanging over everyone—Mr. Weasley was completely cured and with his family again.

Bryt, Hermione, and the Weasleys started for the kitchen, though they all froze in the doorway. Sirius and Snape were standing with their wands pointed at each other while Harry was standing between them, his hands out as if he could hold the two men apart.

"Merlin's beard, what's going on here?" Mr. Weasley asked. Bryt was wondering the same thing. She knew Snape and Sirius didn't like each other at all, but to get into a duel in the middle of Order headquarters?

Sirius and Snape both seemed to notice their audience as they both lowered their wands. Harry looked between the two men before slowly lowering his arms as Snape gave him a harsh look.

"Six o'clock Monday evening, Potter," he said sharply before heading out of the room. Bryt glared after him before turning back to the others as Mr. Weasley asked, again, what was going on.

"Nothing Arthur," Sirius said, though Bryt noticed there was definitely a hard edge to his voice, "Just a friendly chat between old school friends."

_'I'd hate to see an unfriendly chat,'_ Bryt thought, though she knew full well that Sirius and Snape had never been friends in any way.

"So, you're cured?" Sirius went on, though he seemed distracted, "That's great news, really great."

"Yes, isn't it?" Mrs. Weasley asked, helping Mr. Weasley sit down in a chair at the table, "Healer Smethwyck worked his magic in the end, found an antidote to whatever that snake's got in its fangs, and Arthur's learned his lesson about dabbling in Muggle medicine." Mrs. Weasley gave her husband a stern look and added, "_Haven't you, dear?_"

"Yes, Molly dear," Mr. Weasley said in a small voice, sounding almost like a child being scolded by his mother. Bryt grinned and shook her head as she sat next to Ron at the table.

Though with Mr. Weasley home, dinner wasn't as cheerful as it could have been. Harry sat next to Hermione across from Bryt and Ron, then leaned forward to explain what Snape had wanted. Apparently, Dumbledore was arranging for Harry to take private lessons with Snape to learn something called Occlumency—which, as Harry explained, was a type of defense against mind-reading magic and would help guard his mind from Voldemort.

"Dumbledore wants you to stop having those dreams about Voldemort," Hermione said, staring at Harry, "Well, you won't be sorry not to have them anymore, will you?"

"Extra lessons with Snape?" Ron asked, "I'd rather have the nightmares!"

Bryt snorted into her pumpkin juice, which gained her a glare from Hermione. Though she had to agree with Ron. She'd rather have nightmares than deal with Snape, at least Bryt knew nightmares weren't real and were over once she woke up—no matter how badly they affected her. Dealing with Snape regularly wasn't something she could escape from just by getting out of bed and thinking about something else.

The next morning was dark and cold, the sky threatening snow. Bryt dressed as warmly as she could before heading down and eating breakfast as quickly as possible. Tonks and Lupin were both there, saying they were escorting everyone back to Hogwarts. Bryt groaned when she learned they were traveling by Knight Bus.

"I've always wanted to go on this thing," Ron said half an hour later as Tonks was hurrying them onto the death trap disguised as transportation.

"You'll change your mind in about five minutes," Bryt told him, finding herself wishing they Apparated or portkeyed to Hogwarts.

Luckily, the trip back to Hogwarts was much faster than Bryt and Hermione's ride to Grimmauld Place. Fifteen minutes as opposed to the hour before.

"You're right, Bryt," Ron said as he got off the bus, Bryt turned to see he looked a little green in the face, "I wish we never rode that thing."

"Told you," Bryt replied with a grin as Lupin made his way over.

"Look after yourselves," he said, shaking everyone's hand, then Tonks stepped up to give her goodbyes as well. Then, the two Apparated away, leaving Bryt and the others to head through the Hogwarts gates and back to their school.

**xxxxx**

Surprisingly, the first day of the new term was relatively normal. She and her brothers had come to an unspoken agreement not to mention the fact Bryt wasn't home, instead focusing on their planned day together that upcoming Saturday when they were together. Between classes, however, Bryt was trying to help get the word around that Harry wasn't sure when they'd have the next DA meeting, but he'd let them know when he was sure.

Unsurprisingly, the normal day didn't last. Bryt had been in the middle of homework with Hermione and Ron that night when Harry came up to them in the library after his first Occlumency lesson with Snape. Bryt had glanced up from her work, then suddenly dropped her quill when she noticed how pale and sweaty Harry was.

"Are you okay?" she asked, worried. Harry looked as if he might throw up at any minute now.

"Fine," Harry said quickly, then rubbed his scar on his forehead, "I dunno...Listen, I've just realized something...These dreams I've been having about a long corridor leading to a door, I remembered that I have seen it before. When Mr. Weasley took me to my hearing during the summer. I remember passing it in the rush to get to the court room. It leads to the Department of Mysteries."

Bryt's eyes widened as she suddenly realized what Harry was getting at.

"You think the weapon Voldemort wants is in there?" Bryt asked, ignoring Ron's wince at the name.

"It has to be," Harry answered, "It was definitely the same door Mr. Weasley was guarding when he was bitten."

Bryt shuddered slightly at that memory. Thank God Mr. Weasley made it through perfectly fine.

"Of course," Hermione suddenly said. Bryt stared at her.

"Of course what?" she and Ron asked together.

"Think about it," Hermione said, "Sturgis Podmore was trying to get through a door at the Ministry of Magic...It must have been that one, it's too much of a coincidence!"

"But he's part of the Order," Bryt said, "Why would he try to break through the door?"

"I don't know," Hermione said with a sigh, "That is a bit odd..."

"So what's in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked, looking over to Ron, "Has your dad ever mentioned anything about it?"

"I know they call the people who work there 'Unspeakables'," Ron said with a frown, "Because no one really seems to know what they do in there...Weird place to have a weapon."

"Actually, if no one knows what's going on, it's a perfect place," Bryt said, Anything could be going on in there, including the Ministry creating a new weapon." Bryt paused as a thought came to her. "It's a bit like the theories about Area 51."

Harry and Ron both gave Bryt a weird look and Hermione shook her head, an annoyed look on her face.

"What's Area 51?" Ron finally asked.

"A Muggle government facility in the States," Hermione answered sharply, "Sofí went on and on about these idiotic conspiracies about the place last summer when we stayed with the García family. Many people believe that Area 51 is hiding aliens, of all things. That's even more ridiculous than anything Luna Lovegood could come up with."

Bryt grinned, suddenly thinking that Luna would probably go nuts over alien stories. She could already imagine _Quibbler_ headlines about it.

Before anyone could say anything else on the subject, Harry suddenly clamped both of his hands over his scar and leaned forward over the table.

"Harry, are you okay?" Bryt asked, getting up and coming over to him.

"Yeah, fine," Harry said slowly, "I just feel a bit...I don't like Occlumency much."

"I expect anyone would feel shaky if they'd had their mind attacked over and over again," Hermione said gently, "Look, let's go back to the common room, we'll be a bit more comfortable there."

Unfortunately, the common room was packed and noisy. Fred and George were in the center of the room, demonstrating a set of hats that made one's head disappear when worn. Bryt would have thought it was amusing if it weren't for how disturbing it looked—and how much it made her think about the Headless Hunt. Memories of that disastrous Halloween in her second year was something Bryt didn't need, so when Harry decided to head to bed, Bryt headed on to her own room as well. She stretched out on her bed, taking just enough time to write down the theories she and her friends had come up with about the weapon Voldemort wanted, then changed into her pajamas, eager for some sleep.


	32. Small Hope

Bryt woke up in a good mood the next morning. She should have known right then something would go wrong considering the luck they'd had all year, and this time was no different. The morning seemed normal enough, and Harry was even feeling better after the night before. The day-ruiner came when Bryt opened her copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

"Oh God..." Bryt breathed, staring at the headline of the front page, her heart starting to pound harder. This couldn't be happening. Bryt blinked, as if that would make the offending headline change, but it didn't. The same ugly black words stared up at her, along with the faces of ten known Death Eaters—Bryt noticed Bellatrix Lestrange among them, looking even more haunting than she did in Kreature's picture.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, and Bryt responded by spreading the paper down on the table in front of her so all three of her friends could see the headline and article:

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN

MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS "RALLYING POINT" FOR OLD DEATH EATERS

_The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban._

_ Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening, and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals._

_ "We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped," said Fudge last night. "Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it is likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals and beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached."_

Ten Death Eaters were on the loose now. Bryt looked around the Great Hall, but only saw a handful of people seeming to take any notice—though Bryt noticed the entire staff table seemed tense and alert.

_'I just hope Mom doesn't find out about this,'_ Bryt thought. She knew her father would know, either through his friendship with Mr. Weasley or through his love of keeping up with current events in the wizarding world. But Bryt's mother was already fearful enough of the magical world. She didn't need more to add to it.

Though the thought brought another worry to Bryt. Would her family be safe? She knew Mr. Weasley was keeping an eye on things—as much as he could with the Ministry watching, anyway. Bryt just hoped her family would stay safe.

"I don't believe this," Harry snapped, pulling Bryt from her thoughts, "Fudge is blaming the breakout on _Sirius_?"

"What other options do they have?" Hermione replied bitterly, "He can hardly say 'Sorry everyone, Dumbledore warned me this might happen, the Azkaban guards have joined Voldemort and now Voldemort's worst supporters have broken out too.' I mean, he's spent a good six months telling everyone you and Dumbledore are liars, hasn't he?"

"Tells you something about your leader when he cares more about appearances than protecting the public," Bryt hissed, glaring at the newspaper and shoving it away from her. As Hermione took the paper, Bryt looked down at her half-finished breakfast, but couldn't eat any more. She'd lost her appetite. The thought of so many Death Eaters now loose left Bryt feeling a bit sick. She pushed her plate away from her, looking around the Great Hall again, but there were still very few people who were aware of the Death Eater escape.

"Oh my..." Hermione suddenly said and Bryt felt her stomach tie into knots. More bad news. Hermione, looking slightly sick, spread out the newspaper again so the four of them could read:

TRAGIC DEMISE OF MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER

_ St. Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderic Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by a potted plant. Healers called to the scene were unable to revive Mr. Bode, who had been injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior to his death._

_ Healer Miriam Strout, who was in charge of Mr. Bode's ward at the time of the incident, has been suspended on full pay and was unavailable for comment yesterday, but a spokeswizard for the hospital said in a statement, "St. Mungo's deeply regrets the death of Mr. Bode, whose health was improving steadily prior to his tragic accident._

_ "We have strict guidelines on the decorations permitted on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout, busy over the Christmas period, overlooked the dangers of the plant on Mr. Bode's bedside table. As his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout encouraged Mr. Bode to look after the plant himself, unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but a cutting Devil's Snare, which, when touched by the convalescent Mr. Bode, throttled him instantly._

_ "St. Mungo's is as yet unable to account for the presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch or wizard with information to come forward."_

"That's _horrible_," Bryt whispered, staring at the newspaper, her sickening feeling growing.

"Bode...That rings a bell..." Ron said slowly.

"We saw him," Hermione replied quietly, "In St. Mungo's, remember? He was in the bed opposite Lockhart's, just lying there, staring at the ceiling. And we saw the Devil's Snare arrive. She—the Healer—said it was a Christmas present..."

All Bryt remembered from the hospital trip was running into Lockhart and finding out about Neville's parents. She couldn't recall anything about Bode—of course, Bryt spent half the time there tuning out everything around her and trying to pretend she wasn't at a hospital. She wasn't about to say as much to her friends, though. It seemed so trivial compared to what they had just learned.

"How come we didn't recognize Devil's Snare?" Harry asked, "We've seen it before...we could have stopped this from happening..."

"Who expects Devil's Snare to turn up in a hospital disguised as a potted plant?" Ron replied, "It's not our fault, whoever sent it to the bloke is to blame! They must be a real prat, why didn't they check what they were buying?"

"Unless they meant to kill Bode," Bryt put in, "An attack disguised as a gift. Like the Trojan Horse."

"And they sent it anonymously. There's no way to find them," Hermione said weakly, her face pale, "This was murder...A very clever murder at that..."

"I met Bode," Harry said suddenly, looking at Ron, "I saw him at the Ministry with your dad."

Ron straightened up, a look or realization on his face.

"I've heard Dad talk about him at home! He was an Unspeakable—he worked in the Department of Mysteries!"

The four fell silent at that and Bryt folded up the newspaper, putting it face-down so they didn't have to see the faces of the ten Death Eaters. Bryt sighed, playing with her bracelet as she thought over what they had learned. They theorized last night that whatever it was Voldemort was after had to be in the Department of Mysteries. Now they learn that someone who worked there had been killed. Bryt doubted the two were coincidences. Slowly, a theory started to form into her head. What if Bode had found out something he shouldn't have? What if someone had attacked him for it and that was how he ended up in St. Mungo's in the first place? They would have heard that he was starting to recover, thus would be able to tell others whatever it was he knew. Then they send the Devil's Snare to finish Bode off so he couldn't talk...

Bryt was just about to voice her theory to her friends when Hermione jumped to her feet.

"Where are you going?" Bryt and Ron asked together.

"To send a letter," Hermione said, "It...well, I don't know whether...but it's worth trying...and I'm the only one who can..."

Hermione hurried off without another word and Bryt sighed.

"D'you think she realizes how annoying that is?" she asked as she got up. Harry and Ron both shrugged in response as they got up and started for the doors.

They had just reached the entrance hall when they noticed Hagrid nearby, still looking as badly beaten and bruised as he had months ago. Bryt really wished she knew what was going on, especially since it was obvious that a lot of Hagrid's injuries were very recent.

"Are you okay, Hagrid?" Harry asked as they caught up to their friend.

"Fine, fine," Hagrid said with a wave of his hand, "Jus' busy, yeh know, usual stuff—lessons ter prepare—couple o' salamanders got scale rot—an' I'm on probation."

"_You're on probation?_" Bryt and Ron echoed—though Ron much more loudly. But then Bryt realized she should have expected this. Hagrid didn't perform well at all during Umbridge's inspection. It didn't mean she wasn't going to get angry over it, however.

"Yeah," Hagrid replied, "S'no more'n I expected, ter tell yeh the truth. Yeh migh' not've picked up on it, bu' that inspection didn't go too well, yeh know...anyway, bes' go an rub a bit more chili powder on them salamanders or their tails'll be hangin' off 'em next. See yeh..."

Hagrid headed off, his shoulders slumped slightly. Bryt gripped her hands into fists. Couldn't they have something go right this year? Just once?

Unfortunately, the news of Hagrid's probation spread very quickly through the school. For the rest of the week, it took every ounce of Bryt's self-control not to walk over and punch Malfoy any time he started one of his gloats about how Hagrid would be gone soon. At least the conversations about Hagrid were soon replaced by talk of the Death Eaters. It also brought with it a type of morbid popularity to relatives of people the Death Eaters had killed or tortured. Bryt couldn't understand the fascination with it. She had seen through Harry that being famous because your family was dead was not in any way a good thing.

Saturday was a welcome break for Bryt. She got dressed quickly, eager to spend time with her brothers—or at least, the morning with them. Drew had told her the day before that Owen and Kevin wanted to get together in the afternoon, so he wanted to spend that time with them. Mike didn't have extra plans considering Natalie was opting to hang out with them that morning, so the two would continue hanging out later.

Bryt went down to the common room with Hermione, then told her she'd see her at lunch before heading towards where Mike and Natalie were waiting. Bryt passed the notice board along the way, but ignored it. Especially considering the new Educational Decree that had gone up a couple of days before that banned any teacher from 'speaking of anything not related to the subject they are hired to teach'. Bryt knew it was to keep teachers from talking about the Azkaban breakout, but it also meant that students wouldn't be able to go to their teachers for advice if they needed it. Umbridge's grip was getting tighter and tighter. Bryt was surprised there hadn't been a decree banning students from talking to each other yet.

"Morning you to," Bryt said with a grin, trying to push away her thoughts when Mike and Natalie noticed her. This was supposed to be a morning of fun with her brothers—and Natalie. They didn't need her being grouchy over things she couldn't control.

"Morning," Natalie said with a bright grin. Bryt noticed she had her hair up in a type of bun instead of her usual pigtails, though a loose strand hung along her face, poking out from under the thick ear-warmer band she was wearing. Bryt was never one to pay much attention to appearances, but even she had to admit that just that simple hairstyle change seemed to bring out a lot in Natalie's appearance. With the girl's strawberry-blonde hair and sweet, freckly face, Bryt had a feeling Natalie would be a heartbreaker in a couple of years. At least Bryt knew not to trust the girl's smile, though. She had a mischievous streak to her that reminded her a lot of Fred and George at times, even if Natalie wasn't the type to prank others.

"C'mon, let's go get breakfast and meet Drew," Mike said, grinning brightly. He seemed really excited about this morning. Bryt couldn't help but grin over that as they started through the castle.

"I can't wait until we get together," Mike said, "Drew and I got something to tell you about someone we met over the holidays, but we swore we'd wait until today."

"What're you talking about?" Bryt asked, but Mike got that grin on his face that she knew too well. The look that said he had some 'good info', as he called it, and was going to keep it stored away until just the right moment. The boy was like a ferret. He was far too curious for his own good and always seemed to know when someone was hiding something. He was also good at being friendly and getting them to talk. When he finally found out what was up, he horded away that knowledge, very pleased with his find. And he also loved gossiping, or 'sharing his finds', as he didn't like the word 'gossip'.

So Bryt had to wait until after breakfast. Half an hour later, they met up with Drew in the entrance hall before heading outside, deciding to take a few walks around the lake while they talked.

"Okay, what's this about someone you met over the holidays?" Bryt asked as Natalie and Mike began walking backwards in front of her and Drew.

"Mike, you were supposed to wait," Drew said with a sigh, though he didn't seem nearly as excited about whatever this news was as Mike.

"I didn't tell her what it was! I just said we met someone," Mike said, "Do I have to get permission from you to say it now?"

Drew rolled his eyes and Natalie laughed.

"I think you can take that as 'permission granted'," she said.

"Okay," Mike said, turning towards Bryt, his grin growing more, "We met this really cool witch when we were out shopping, and the best part is, Mom actually likes her!"

"What?" Bryt asked, stopping in her tracks, dumbfounded, "Does Mom know she's a witch?"

"Yep!" Mike said cheerfully.

"Emily told us so when we first met her," Drew said, "She didn't say this part to Mom, but apparently Ron's dad asked her to keep an eye on our parents when she's not busy working."

"She also said you knew her," Mike added.

Bryt thought for a moment, then realized who her brothers had to be talking about. The tall, black woman she had talked to a few times over the summer, who was apparently good friends with Tonks.

"Is she an Auror?" she asked, "Emily Hughes?"

"Yeah, that's her name," Mike said, "Didn't know she was an Auror, though."

"I think it's cool," Natalie said, "You two know an Auror. An actual Auror."

Bryt decided it'd be better not to say that she knew more than one. After all, the Order was supposed to be a secret. Not even her brothers knew about it.

"Emily's really nice," Bryt said, "I'm surprised Mom's warmed up to her, though, considering..."

Bryt trailed off and her brothers got identical frowns on their faces.

"Mikey thinks it's because Emily's Muggleborn," Natalie said matter-of-factly, seeming oblivious to the others. Or at least, she wasn't going to say anything about it.

"Will you stop calling me Mikey?" Mike asked, but then turned back to Bryt, "Yeah, Emily's Muggleborn. She also lives with her Muggle uncle and keeps a very firm hold on her roots. I think that's why Mom likes her so much."

"She shows someone can be Muggleborn without giving up their heritage," Drew added.

Bryt couldn't help but grin at that as they continued walking. Maybe it'd be good for Mrs. Watkins to befriend a witch—especially a Muggleborn one. Maybe getting a friend in the magical world would help her not to feel so much of an outsider to it. She might actually start warming up instead of being afraid of it. And maybe it'd mean Bryt and her mother would be able to patch things up easier is she understood the importance of what was going on a bit more.

For the first time in a long time, Bryt truly believed—rather than just hoped—that things would work out fine with her mother. This was a conversation she'd save for the summer, though. There was a lot she wanted to say, and with owls being intercepted, there was no way she'd get anything through in a letter. Besides, waiting until summer would give her mother more time to adjust than rushing into a letter now. But when summer came, the first thing Bryt would do was sit down with her mother for a nice, long talk.


	33. Quidditch Problems

As January turned to February, life fell back into the usual Hogwarts routines, though there were definite differences. Care of Magical Creatures and Divination were monitored by Umbridge for every lesson now—Bryt couldn't help but wonder how Umbridge managed to do this and run her own classes as well.

A normal Hogwarts routine also didn't include secret DA meetings. Bryt was impressed by how much everyone was improving, especially Neville. Bryt had never seen Neville so focused on anything—not even when he worked on Herbology assignments. Bryt had a strong feeling this was due to the news of the Death Eaters escape.

Bryt was also spending a lot of her after-class times in Quidditch practice. The Gryffindor team definitely needed it. After the first game, Ron was losing confidence more and more. He was a good player. They all knew it except for Ron himself. His nerves just got the better of him, especially when he knew he was being watched. Bryt was struggling herself with the practices. Being a Beater was a lot harder than she imagined, though it was probably also due to the fact that Bryt felt as if she were the only Beater on the team at times. Jack Sloper was horrible. They had yet to have a single practice where he hadn't either accidentally hit someone else or managed to fall off his broom. That left Bryt on her own to keep her eye on two different Bludgers. With all the energy and focus on practices, Bryt came up to the castle exhausted, only to have to force herself to stay up another hour to finish up whatever homework she had at the time.

The need for Quidditch practices ended up meaning giving up a Hogsmeade visit on Valentine's Day. Bryt didn't care so much about the Valentine's Day part. In fact, she couldn't care less that the Hogsmeade trip was on Valentine's Day. She was just disappointed about the fact that she was missing a chance to get away from Hogwarts for a few hours.

Because of this, Bryt was already in a bad mood when she sat down for breakfast on Valentine's Day. She'd much rather be in Hogsmeade than dealing with what she knew was going to be another bad practice.

Harry and Ron sat down at the table across from Bryt and Hermione just as mail arrived. Bryt had a letter from Sofí, but that was it for her mail. Bryt pocketed her letter, deciding to read it that night. It'd be a good way to cheer her up after her Quidditch practice that day.

"About time! If it hadn't come today..."

Bryt looked up from her bacon to see Hermione taking a letter from a brown owl sitting by her plate. Hermione read the letter quickly, then jumped to her feet.

"Listen, Harry, this is really important," Hermione said, "Do you think you could meet me in the Three Broomsticks around midday?"

"I dunno," Harry said slowly, "Cho might be expecting me to spend the whole day with her. We never said what we were going to do."

"Well, bring her along if you must. But will you come?"

"Well...All right, but why?"

"I haven't got time to tell you now, I've got to answer this quickly."

_'Hopefully Harry's date will be better than our practice,'_ Bryt thought as Hermione hurried off, wishing she could just spend the day in Hogsmeade as well. But she was a Beater on the Quidditch team now. She really should be enjoying her position more, feeling more pride and want to do better, but it was hard to when the team didn't mesh together all that well. It was obvious that Angelina wasn't happy with Bryt, Sloper, and Ginny. Angelina tried not to let it on, but it came through very clear in her actions that she wanted to go back to when Fred, George, and Harry were on the team. It made it hard for Bryt to enjoy herself when she knew she wouldn't even be on the team if it weren't for the fact Fred and George were unjustly banned. Bryt didn't exactly feel like part of the team as it was. They were more like just a bunch of people thrown together.

"Are you two coming?" Harry asked, pulling Bryt from her thoughts. It took her a moment to realize he was talking about Hogsmeade.

"Angelina's scheduled a full day of practice," Bryt said.

"Not that it'll help," Ron put in with a sigh, "We're the worst team I've ever seen. Sloper's even worse than me—"

"You're _not_ a bad player, Ron," Bryt cut in sharply, "Get that through your thick head already."

Ron glared at her and Bryt sighed, pushing herself to her feet.

"I'm heading down to the pitch," she said, grabbing her bag, "Sorry for snapping, Ron."

Bryt headed off without another word, starting for the Gryffindor common room so she could get her broom. She really hadn't meant to snap at Ron, but she was getting extremely tired of repeating herself around him. What was it going to take for him to finally believe that he _was_ a good Keeper? Sure, he had his off days, but everyone did. If Ron stopped letting his nerves get to him, he'd be even better.

Bryt was the first one in the locker room and changed quickly and headed outside to get a few laps in before practice.

Being in the air was an amazing feeling for Bryt. It was great to feel the wind against her face and rippling her clothes around her. Flying before practice was great for helping clear her head and just have a little fun before the hard work started. Bryt was just starting to lose herself in the flight when she noticed someone coming out of the locker room. Bryt stopped, hovering in the air above the middle of the pitch, and shaded her eyes. Even from up in the air, she could easily see the mess of red hair below her. Seemed like Ron had come out early as well. Bryt swallowed hard, though stayed still. Was Ron going to be angry with her over snapping earlier and ignore her for the rest of the day? Bryt hoped not. She was already going to have enough trouble today.

Apparently, Ron was in a forgiving mood today. He mounted his broom and flew right up to Bryt, hovering in front of her.

"At least it's a nice day," Ron said, grinning at Bryt.

"Yeah, probably the only good thing about today," Bryt said, straightening up on her broom and raising slightly so she'd be eye-level with her boyfriend for a change.

"Most likely," Ron said with a sigh, looking around, "I'd much rather be at Hogsmeade."

"Same here," Bryt replied, "But Angelina wants an all-day practice, so we'll have one. Hopefully all this work will start paying off."

"I doubt it," Ron said sourly, "It's hard to work as a team when someone drags everyone down. I mean, I've seen all the extra work you do because of Sloper. I have no idea how you manage it."

"I just try," Bryt said, staring at Ron. She could tell he still thought he was a horrible player, but he wasn't about to say so now. Maybe he wanted to avoid another fight, which Bryt understood. But she wasn't about to let him keep believing he wasn't any good.

"I don't let others get to me," Bryt went on, "You know that. Yeah, I get frustrated that Sloper sucks, but if I decide to quit just because the work's hard or I'm not as god as I want to be, then that'd be worse. I'd rather see it through than give up."

"You have a point there," Ron said, frowning as he stared off towards the forest. Bryt watched him, just hoping all she said would finally sink in with Ron and help him get over his nerves issue. He was great when he wanted to be.

They didn't get to talk further because the rest of the team had arrived. Bryt sighed as she and Ron went in for a landing for Angelina's pre-practice talk. It was time to start their bad day.

Bryt had been right. The only good thing she could say about their all-day practice was that it had gone better than their practice the following Monday. Ron had started to do better on their all-day practice, though he was starting to falter again now. Bryt wondered if it was partly because of the storm they were trying to practice in. It made visibility almost impossible and Bryt had a hard time seeing any of her teammates. It was a relief when Angelina finally called the practice to an end and they could all go to dinner. Bryt and Ron, both wet and muddy, made their way back to the castle, once again in bad moods.

Harry and Hermione were in the middle of a conversation as Bryt and Ron approached. Judging from what Hermione was saying, it was about the past Hogsmeade visit, with Harry's date with Cho and Harry giving an interview to Rita Skeeter about what happened during the Triwizard Tournament the previous summer, an interview that was going to be published in _The Quibbler_ of all things.

"Look," Hermione said as Bryt and Ron sat down, "You upset Cho when you said you were going to meet me, so she tried to make you jealous. It was her way of trying to find out how much you liked her."

"Is that what she was doing?" Harry asked, sounding annoyed, "Well, wouldn't it have been easier if she'd just asked me whether I liked her better than you?"

"Girls don't ask questions like that," Hermione said.

"I would," Bryt said. Hermione shook her head.

"No offense, but you're not the best example of what girls usually do, Bryt," she said. Bryt shrugged in response, starting to eat the food she piled on her plate.

"Well, girls should ask questions like that!" Harry said, going back to the original topic, "Then I could've just told her I fancy her, and she wouldn't have had to get herself all worked up again about Cedric dying!"

_'Harry's date didn't go so well, then,'_ Bryt thought, her mouth too full of food to comment on the conversation at the moment. It was a shame. Bryt had really hoped that Harry and Cho would have had a good first date. Maybe there was a chance of them still patching things up and giving a date another try. After all, relationships weren't perfect.

"I'm not saying what she did was sensible," Hermione said, "I'm just trying to make you see how she was feeling at the time."

"You should write a book," Ron spoke up as Ginny sat down with them, "Translating mad things girls do so boys can understand them."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, then turned towards Bryt, Ron, and Ginny, "How was Quidditch practice?"

"A nightmare," Bryt and Ron answered together.

"Oh come on," Hermione said, "I'm sure it wasn't that—"

"Yes, it was," Ginny cut in, "It was appalling. Angelina was nearly in tears by the end of it."

"It's going to take a miracle to win on Saturday," Bryt said.

**xxxxx**

Bryt's nerves were at an all-time high that Saturday when she followed the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team onto the pitch. Practice was one thing, but she knew it was going to be different actually playing a game against another team. Despite the fact that she doubted they would win, she couldn't help but hope. Maybe Ron would miraculously get over his nerves issue and not let a single goal in. Maybe Ginny would catch the snitch in the first five minutes of the match. They still had a chance, no matter how small it might be.

There was also the fact that this was Bryt's first game. A few pick-up games over the summer and the appalling practices they had wasn't nearly enough to prepare her for the nerves tying her stomach into knots. She'd always chastised Harry and Ron for being so nervous before Quidditch matches, thinking it was foolish. She doubted she would have ever been that nervous, especially when she didn't care what people thought about her. But now that she was actually in the situation, standing there on the pitch with her Nimbus Seventeen-Hundred gripped in her hands, she understood the anxiety and feelings of nervous nausea. She wasn't really afraid of making a fool of herself in front of the entire school. She was more worried about if she'd be any good against another team—a pair of Beaters who'd been playing Quidditch for a few years now. It was one thing to practice and think she was good. It was something different to actually put it to the test.

Once Bryt launched into the air, her nerves subsided somewhat. Still, the match didn't go well at all. Hufflepuff managed to score within the first minute of the game and it went downhill from there. Sloper was no help at all—in fact, he nearly knocked out Angelina with his bat at one point—so Bryt was Lone Beater again. At least she got the hang of playing against another team very quickly. The hardest part was what she had already practiced—keeping an eye on two Bludgers and several people at once, and aiming her hits to send Bludgers at the opposing team members.

Overall, the match probably wouldn't have been as bad as it was if it weren't for the fact Ron's first missed save got to him again and he let in one goal after another. Thankfully, Ginny managed to catch the Snitch at about twenty minutes into the game, so Gryffindor only lost by ten points.

The loss effected Ron the worst and that night, he just sat by the fire in the common room without saying a word. Bryt sat down next to him, knowing better than to talk about the Quidditch match that night. Instead, she distracted him with wizard chess, saying that since she was finally getting the basics, she'd like to try and play against him. It seemed to help cheer Ron up, at least, especially since Bryt was proving to be getting better at the game. Her match against Ron actually managed to last ten minutes, but she still lost. Plus, chess was a quiet game and Ron was obviously wanting a quiet night after the Quidditch match.

After their second game, Ron decided to head on to bed. Bryt decided to do the same right after, though she spent a few moments to write in her journal. Bryt curled up under her covers right after, her last thought before going to bed was hoping that Ron would at least be in a better mood the following day.


	34. Article Aftermath

For once, Bryt's hopes were answered and Ron seemed completely back to normal the next day. He was talking with Harry when Bryt and Hermione sat with them for breakfast. Bryt was about to join into their conversation about the unfairness of their latest Potion essay when Natalie came bouncing up to them, her hair up in the cute bun style again today. As usual, Mike was with her and both were looking extremely excited as they sat down.

"You're absolutely brilliant, Harry!" Natalie said, "Professor Umbridge is going to go mental when she finds out!"

"I'd love to see her face when it happens!" Mike added.

Harry looked confused and Bryt couldn't blame him. She stared at her brother and his friend, putting down her fork.

"What're you two talking about?" she asked.

Natalie and Mike's grins grew and Natalie held out a magazine towards them. Bryt leaned forward and noticed _The Quibbler_ across the top of it, the cover of the magazine holding a picture of an embarrassed-looking Harry and the headline:

_**HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:**_

_**THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED**_

_**AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN**_

"Natalie reads _The Quibbler_ almost religiously," Mike said, making a slight face, "She even believes the stuff that's in it."

Not_ all_ of it," Natalie shot back, "There's still several things they publish that I don't believe, like their story last month about the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. I doubt they'd ever come this far south." Natalie turned back towards the others while Bryt just stared at her in surprise. She never took Natalie as the type to believe in the type of things that _The Quibbler_ published. "Anyway, this is brilliant, Harry. I bet this'll change a lot of people's minds about you and Dumbledore being nutters!"

"Er, thanks," Harry said, staring at Natalie as if he wasn't completely sure he should take her comment as a complement or not. Bryt agreed. There might be some people who saw Harry an interview in _The Quibbler_ and decide that he really _was_ insane.

Bryt wondered how long it would take for the story to get around Hogwarts—after all, there couldn't be that many people who read The Quibbler. Luckily, they didn't have to wait long. The next morning, the fan mail started to flood in. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Bryt all tore into the letters at once, reading them over.

"This one's from a bloke who thinks you're off your rocker," Ron said, "Ah well."

"This woman recommends you try a good course of Shock Spells at St. Mungo's," Hermione said as she made a face and crumpled up a letter.

"Hah! You've convinced one!" Bryt said excitedly as she read over hers, "Says he doesn't want to believe Voldemort—stop wincing, Ron—is back, but he can't deny the truth in what you've been saying anymore."

"This one believes me, too!" Harry said, reading over another letter.

"This one's in two minds," Fred said, as he had joined in on the letter-reading since he was sitting next to them, "Says you don't come across as a mad person, but he really doesn't want to believe You-Know-Who's back so he doesn't know what to think now...Blimey, what a waste of parchment."

"Another who thinks you've lost it," Bryt said with a shrug, tossing aside the letter. She knew some people still wouldn't believe, but at least they were convincing others. Bryt couldn't have hoped for a better outcome than this.

"This one says you've got her converted," Ron said, "And she now thinks you're a real hero—she put in a photograph too—wow—"

"Ron, you might want to remember your girlfriend is sitting right next to you," Bryt warned, giving him a stern look. Ron gave her a sheepish grin, pushing the photo face-down away from him.

"What is going on here?"

Bryt looked up to see Umbridge had made her way over. Bryt wasn't surprised. Umbridge most likely got suspicious of all the owls gathering around one student—especially that one student being Harry Potter. Umbridge was going to find out about the interview sooner or later. Better it be sooner so they could get it over with.

"Why have you got all these letters, Mr. Potter?" Umbridge asked with her sickeningly sweet grin.

"Is that a crime now? Getting mail?" Fred asked.

"Be careful, Mr. Weasley, or I shall put you in detention," Umbridge said before turning back to Harry, "Well, Mr. Potter?"

"People have written to me because I gave an interview," Harry answered after a small pause, "About what happened to me last June."

"An interview?" Umbridge asked, her voice rising slightly, "What do you mean?"

"I mean a reporter asked me questions and I answered them," Harry said. Bryt choked on her pumpkin juice. Luckily, Harry had handed Umbridge a copy of _The Quibbler_, so she hadn't noticed Bryt.

Umbridge glanced at the magazine, then her face went red.

"When did you do this?" she asked sharply.

"Last Hogsmeade weekend."

Umbridge looked from the magazine to Harry and Bryt couldn't help but smile in satisfaction when she noticed Umbridge was shaking from anger. They'd finally managed something to put Umbridge on edge.

"There will be no Hogsmeade trips for you, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said quietly, "How dare you...How you could..." Umbridge paused to take a deep breath, obviously trying to calm herself down. "I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. Fifty points from Gryffindor and another week's worth of detentions."

Umbridge headed off, still muttering under her breath. Still, even with the lost House points and Harry in detention again, it was impossible not to be happy for a change. Bryt only got happier when she noticed a couple of hours later the new educational decree that said any students found with _The Quibbler_ would be expelled. Banning the magazine was a perfect way to make sure every student read it.

Sure enough, everyone in the school seemed to know the article by heart by the end of the day. The teachers—aside from Umbridge and Snape, of course—were still under the orders of Educational Decree Twenty-Six, but still showed appreciation by giving Gryffindor points for simple things, such as Sprout giving them twenty points for handing her a watering can. Even Trelawney was appreciative of the article, as she gave Harry a new future: Becoming Minister of Magic, having a dozen kids, and living a long, healthy life. Bryt couldn't stop giggling at the look on Umbridge's face after that one.

Though the best part was a toss-up between the fact that Cho and Seamus both apologized to Harry—Cho obviously willing to give a date another chance, and Seamus now finally believed Harry—and Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's sudden decision to stay back instead of their usual taunts. Bryt knew they'd read the article, and thanks to Umbridge's ban, they couldn't say one word to Harry about it without risk of being expelled.

The Gryffindor common room ended up in a small party that night where Harry was asked over and over again to relive his interview. Bryt thought it was rude. Harry already had to relive the night in July once recently. Did everyone really think he wanted to do it again and again? Harry ended up going to bed early that night and Bryt couldn't blame him for it.

Unfortunately, the hype of doing something to get one over on Umbridge was ruined by the next day. Harry and Ron both seemed preoccupied with something when they came down for breakfast, but they refused to say anything until they were huddled together in their usual place on the courtyard for break.

Harry had had another dream about Voldemort the night before, and like the dream with the snake, Harry had seen through the eyes of someone else. This time Voldemort himself.

Voldemort had been talking with one of the escaped Death Eaters—Rookwood—about how Avery had been wrong on the fact that Bode could have removed something from the Department of Mysteries. Mr. Malfoy had put an Imperius curse on Bode to try and get the item, but it had backfired.

"That confirms my theory," Bryt said in a whisper, "Bode knew something he shouldn't have and the Death Eaters killed him because of it. This is it. He knew he had been put under the Imperious Curse and the Death Eaters were trying to get the weapon from the Department of Mysteries."

"And remember what the Healer told us on Christmas?" Hermione added, "He was recovering. And they couldn't risk him getting better, could they? I mean, the shock of whatever happened when he touched that weapon probably made the Imperius Curse lift. One he'd got his voice back, he'd explain what he was doing, wouldn't he? They would have known he'd been sent to steal the weapon. Of course, it would have been easy for Lucius Malfoy to put the curse on him. Never out of the Ministry, is he?"

"He was even hanging around that day I had my hearing," Harry said, "In the—hang on...He was in the Department of Mysteries corridor that day! Mr. Weasley said he was probably trying to sneak down and find out what happened in my hearing, but what if—"

"Sturgis," Hermione cut in, her eyes widening.

"What?" Bryt asked.

"Sturgis Podmore," Hermione said quickly, "Arrested for trying to get through a door. Lucius Malfoy got him too. I bet he did it the day you saw him there, Harry. Sturgis had Moody's Invisibility Cloak, right? So what if he was standing guard by the door, invisible, and Malfoy heard him move, or guessed he was there, or just did the Imperius Curse on the off chance that a guard was there? So when Sturgis next had an opportunity—probably when it was his turn on guard duty again—he tried to get into the department to steal the weapon for Voldemort, but he got caught and sent to Azkaban..."

"But now Voldemort knows how to get the weapon thanks to Rookwood," Bryt said, looking to Harry.

"I didn't hear all of the conversation, but that's what it sounds like," Harry said, "Rookwood used to work there...Maybe Voldemort'll send Rookwood to do it?"

"Probably," Bryt said, a sense of dread. If Voldemort knew how to get the weapon now. He had someone who might actually be able to get it for him. How long would the Order be able to keep Death Eaters out? After all, two people had already gotten past the Order in attempts to get the weapon.

"But you shouldn't have seen this at all, Harry," Hermione said, giving Harry a stern look, "You're supposed to be learning how to close your mind to this sort of thing."

"I know I am," Harry said defensively, "But—"

"Well I think we should just try and forget what you saw," Hermione said, "And you ought to put a bit more effort on your Occlumency from now on."

"How the hell are we supposed to just _forget_ that Voldemort can probably get the weapon at any moment?" Bryt asked, but Hermione gave her that stern look that said she wasn't going to argue about this. Bryt sighed and decided to drop the subject.

Though as the next few weeks passed, Bryt began to think that Voldemort couldn't get to the weapon, despite knowing how. There was nothing in the _Daily Prophet_ about another Ministry break-in, nor were there any other suspicious deaths. Bryt finally got to the point where she just stopped worrying about it. Especially when there was something else to distract her.

Bryt had been at dinner, talking with Hermione and Ron while Harry was at another Occlumency practice, when a loud scream came from the Entrance Hall. The Great Hall fell silent as everyone looked towards the doors. There was another scream and everyone reacted at once. People got to their feet and hurried for the doors, all wanting to figure out what had happened. Bryt, Hermione, and Ron managed to squeeze their way to the front of the crowd.

It became obvious that Trelawney had been the one who screamed. The Divination teacher was standing in the middle of the Great Hall, looking more insane than Bryt had ever seen her before. Her glasses were sitting lop-sided on her face, shawls were falling from her shoulders, her hair was standing on-end, and she was gripping an empty bottle in one hand and her wand in the other. Bryt noticed a couple of trunks near Trelawney as well—one of which had been knocked open and was laying on its side, the contents scattered around Trelawney's feet. Bryt followed Trelawney's horrified gaze to see Umbridge standing on the last few steps of the marble stairway, looking very pleased with herself.

"NO!" Trelawney shrieked, "This cannot be happening...It cannot...I refuse to accept it!"

"You didn't realize this was coming?" Umbridge asked, sounding almost beside herself with glee, "Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable you would be sacked?"

Bryt tightened her hands into fists, glaring at Umbridge. She may not like Trelawney, but even she didn't think the woman deserved the treatment Umbridge was giving her now.

"You c-can't!" Trelawney said, and Bryt felt a pang of pity as she realized the woman was actually crying, "You c-can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"

"It _was_ your home until an hour ago," Umbridge said, seeming even happier at how devastated Trelawney was—Bryt felt a mixture of nausea and hatred over this, "When the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You're embarrassing us."

Bryt bit on her tongue to keep herself from beginning to yell at Umbridge. She was gripping her hands so tightly they were beginning to shake. She was literally sickened over what Umbridge was doing and the worst part was that she wasn't surprised by it. Umbridge was a horrible woman, getting a sadistic pleasure in watching others suffer was something Bryt had learned about the woman long ago. The scars on Bryt's left hand—and scars on the back of Harry's hand—were proof of that.

McGonagall broke through the crowd then and made her way over to Trelawney—who was now on her knees, sobbing. McGonagall helped the woman to her feet, keeping an arm around her shoulder to support her.

"There, there, Sibyll," McGonagall said, handing Trelawney a tissue, "Calm down...It's not as bad as you think, now...You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts..."

"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" Umbridge asked sharply, "And your authority for that statement is...?"

"That would be mine."

Bryt looked towards the doors leading outside and saw Dumbledore was standing there, the doors opened behind him. Several students started scattering backwards when they noticed him and Bryt couldn't help but think Dumbledore looked extremely impressive framed by the large, open oak doors. It was times like this that Bryt truly believed the stories about Dumbledore being the only man Voldemort ever feared.

"Yours, Professor Dumbledore? I'm afraid you do not understand the position I have here," Umbridge said with a harsh laugh as she held up a piece of parchment, "AN Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation, and sack any teacher she—that is to say, I—feel is not performing up to the standard required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her."

"You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge," Dumbledore said with a grin, "As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I'm afraid that the power to do that still resides with the headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts."

Trelawney suddenly gave an insane-sounding laugh.

"No—no, I'll g-go, Dumbledore!" she said shrilly, "I sh-shall l-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere—"

"No," Dumbledore cut in, "It is my wish that you remain, Sibyll." Dumbledore turned towards McGonagall at this. 'Might I ask you to escort Sibyll back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?"

"Of course," McGonagall answered at once. Sprout and Flitwick both hurried forward to help, Sprout helping to support Trelawney while Flitwick used a levitating spell on Trelawney's trunks to take them back upstairs.

Umbridge, who was starting to lose her pleased look, stared at Dumbledore.

"And what are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?" she asked sharply.

"Oh, that won't be a problem," Dumbledore said, "You see, I have already found a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor."

"You've found..._You've_ found?" Umbridge asked, looking quite angry—Bryt found herself enjoying seeing Umbridge unnerved like this. "Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Educational Decree Twenty-two—"

"The Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if—and only if—the headmaster is unable to find one," Dumbledore finished, "And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?"

Bryt was extremely pleased that, for once, Umbridge wasn't going to get her way—and that they wouldn't have another Ministry-appointed teacher to deal with. She leaned forward to see who was coming in, then nearly lost her balance in surprise. Bryt straightened up, staring with wide eyes at who she saw.

A centaur. And not just any centaur. Bryt recognized the pale blonde hair, clear blue eyes, and palomino horse body at once. She had met him four years prior when he had saved her and Harry in the Forbidden Forest during their detention.

"This is Firenze," Dumbledore said with a pleasant grin, "I think you'll find him suitable."

One Bryt got over her shock of who she was seeing, one thought went through her head. One that was confirmed when she turned and saw the look on Umbridge's face. The High Inquisitor was not liking this one bit.


	35. A Different Type of Divination

For the first time since she started the class, Bryt was looking forward to Divination. She was eager to learn anything she could about the centaurs, even if it was just their fortune-telling methods. Learning about it from an actual centaur made the situation even better.

Bryt wasn't the only one looking forward to the class, though Lavender and Parvati's reasons were very different from Bryt's. They spent the morning of their first lesson with Firenze checking and double-checking their appearances in any shiny surface they could find.

"I'll bet you wish you hadn't given up Divination now, don't you, Hermione?" Parvati asked with a sly grin.

"Not really," Hermione said, not looking up from her Arithmancy book, "I've never really liked horses."

"He's a _centaur_, Hermione," Bryt said sharply, glaring at her friend over the top of her _Daily Prophet_. Bryt was just about to go on in explaining just how different the two were, and how being called a horse was an insult, when Parvati spoke up again.

"A _gorgeous_ centaur," she said with a dreamy sigh. Bryt gave her a weird look. Yes, centaurs had human torsos, arms, and heads, but they were still magical creatures. Albeit extremely intelligent and human-like creatures, like the merpeople. Still, they weren't quite the same as magical creatures such as veela. Bryt was fascinated by the centaurs, but she didn't see the appeal of attraction in them.

"Either way, he's still got four legs," Hermione said, "Anyway, I thought you two were all upset that Trelawney had gone?"

"We are!" Lavender said, looking at Hermione as if she'd been insulted, "We went up to her office to see her, we took her some daffodils—not the honking ones that Sprout's got, nice ones."

"How is she?" Harry asked.

"Not very good, poor thing. She was crying and saying she'd rather leave the castle forever than stay here if Umbridge is still here, and I don't blame her. Umbridge was horrible to her, wasn't she?"

"I've got the feeling Umbridge has only just started being horrible," Hermione said.

"Impossible," Ron said, shaking his head, "She can't get any worse than she's been already."

"Things can always be worse, Ron," Bryt pointed out.

"She's going to want revenge on Dumbledore for appointing a new teacher without consulting her," Hermione said, "Especially another part-human. You saw the look on her face when she saw Firenze."

"I have to agree with Hermione here," Bryt said, "We haven't seen the end of this with Umbridge."

Lavender and Parvati didn't say anything else, returning to their pruning for class and Bryt turned back to her _Daily Prophet_, though there was nothing to note in the news that day.

Divination was now held in a classroom on the ground floor considering that it'd be impossible for Firenze to access the room Trelawney taught classes in. When Bryt went into the classroom, she stopped in her tracks and stared around her, then turned to stare at the door behind her. The classroom was obviously enchanted considering it perfectly resembled a small forest clearing, even to the point that the 'sunlight' filtering through the trees actually _felt_ real against Bryt's face. If Bryt looked closely enough, though, she could still see faint outlines of the stones along the ceiling and walls through the illusion of the forest. It was an amazing environment for a class.

"Harry Potter."

Bryt turned to see Firenze in the middle of the room. Now closer to him, Bryt could see a faint bruise on his chest that was shaped like a hoof. As Harry greeted the centaur, Bryt couldn't help but wonder if one of the other centaurs had been the one that gave Firenze that bruise and why.

Bryt sat down next to Ron on the grassy floor, feeling as if she were settling down for a rest during a camping trip rather than being in a class. Her curiosity about learning form a centaur was at a peak now. She was eager for the class to begin. A minute later, the final student sat down in the room and Firenze motioned around him to the mock forest.

"Professor Dumbledore has kindly arranged this classroom for us in imitation of my natural habitat," he said and Bryt felt herself already paying more attention than she had in any other class before—even Potions or Care of Magical Creatures, "I would have preferred to teach you in the Forbidden Forest, which was—until Monday—my home...but this is not possible."

"Please—sir," Parvati said almost breathlessly, as if she were afraid of offending Firenze, "Why not? We've been in there with Hagrid, we're not frightened!"

Bryt resisted the urge to laugh, remembering the times Parvati and Lavender were definitely unnerved during their lesson with the thestrals. Seemed Parvati was hoping to impress their new teacher.

"It's not a question of your bravery, but of my position," Firenze said, "I can no longer return to the forest. My herd has banished me."

_'That must be when he got that bruise,'_ Bryt thought.

"Herd?" Lavender asked, "What—oh! There are _more of you_?"

"Did Hagrid breed you, like the thestrals?" Dean asked and Bryt groaned. That was _not_ something to ask a centaur. Luckily, Firenze didn't lash out. He only turned to give Dean a stern look and Dean instantly realized he made a mistake.

"I didn't—I mean—I'm sorry," he said quickly.

"Centaurs are not the servants or playthings of humans," Firenze said, though it wasn't in a criticizing way. More as if he were simply clearing something up for someone who had misunderstood. Bryt had a feeling Firenze would be a very good teacher.

Parvati slowly raised her hand in the air again.

"Please, sir...Why have the other centaurs banished you?" she asked quietly.

"Because I have agreed to work for Professor Dumbledore," Firenze said simply, "They see this as a betrayal of our kind."

Bryt couldn't help but think about how the centaur Bane had reacted those four years ago when Firenze had saved Bryt and Harry in the Forbidden Forest. Bryt suddenly had a feeling she knew exactly which centaur had given Firenze the bruise on his chest.

"Let us begin," Firenze said before anyone else could ask any more about the centaurs. Bryt shifted her weight where she sat, eager to learn anything Firenze was going to teach them. Hell, he could give them a lesson on adding and subtracting and Bryt would probably be excited. Not everyone could say they had a centaur for a teacher.

Firenze slowly lifted his hand, then lowered it again. Slowly, the mock sunlight faded away, the ceiling above the trees growing dark and dotted with stars. Bryt grinned, staring up at the sky in wonder. A room like this could be useful for Astronomy, especially during the cold winter months.

Firenze instructed them to lie down for a better view of the stars, saying that those who understood what they were seeing could interpret the future. Bryt stretched back, suddenly hyper-aware of Ron lying next to her, close enough that their arms were touching. It took all of Bryt's self-control not to just move closer and lean fully against him, or even to keep herself from taking his hand in hers. They were in a class, after all. Not sitting together in the common room to work on homework, or alone in a room at Grimmauld Place. Cuddling up to Ron wasn't a good idea at the moment, no matter how tempting the dark, starry ceiling above and soft grass underneath made the idea seem.

Bryt tried to distract herself from Ron by focusing intently on the sky overhead, trying to see if she can recognize any constellations. She was pleased that she knew quite a few. Four-and-a-half years of Astronomy were finally starting to pay off.

"I know that you have learned the names of the planets are their moons in Astronomy," Firenze said, "And that you have mapped stars' progresses through the heavens. Centaurs have unraveled the mysteries of these movements over centuries. Our findings teach us that the future may be glimpsed in the sky above us."

"Professor Trelawney did Astrology with us!" Parvati said excitedly, launching into an explanation on how the positions of Mars and Saturn could cause accidents. Bryt wished she'd be quiet. She wanted to learn about centaur fortune-telling, not listen to the nonsense from Trelawney's classes.

"That is human nonsense," Firenze cut Parvati off, "Trivial huts, tiny human accidents. These are of no more significance than the scurrying of ants to the wide universe, and are unaffected by planetary movements."

Bryt fought back a grin at that, feeling a bit guilty about feeling so happy that Firenze thought human Divination was 'trivial'. After all, she had only a few days before witnessed Trelawney's treatment when she was fired. Bryt tried to shove that feeling to the back of her mind.

"Sibyll Trelawney may have Seen, I do not know," Firenze went on, pacing around the classroom between the students. Bryt couldn't help but watch him and marvel about how easily he managed to avoid stepping on any of the students in the dim lighting, "But she wastes her time, in the main, on the self-flattering nonsense humans call fortune-telling. I, however, am here to explain the wisdom of centaurs, which is impersonal and impartial. We watch the skies for the great tides of evil or change that are sometimes marked there. It may take ten years to be sure of what we are seeing."

Firenze stopped, pointing up at the red star above them, the one Bryt recognized as Mars.

"In the past decade, the indications have been that Wizard-kind is living through nothing more than a brief calm between two wars. Mars, bringer of battle, shines brightly above us, suggesting that the fight must break out again soon. How soon, centaurs may attempt to divine by the burning of certain herbs and leaves, by the observation of fume and flame..."

Firenze then had them burn sage and some plant called mallowsweet, trying to study the smoke to see if they could find any shapes. Bryt found herself enjoying it a lot more than trying to find symbols in a crystal ball or interpreting the meaning of dreams about flying on a giraffe through an entire village made completely of feathers—Bryt had vowed to never again eat stale pumpkin pastries after having that dream a couple of weeks before.

Though for all Bryt's concentration, she only saw smoke. Everyone else in the class had the same problem, but Firenze didn't seem at all surprised. As he put it, humans were almost never good at finding signs this way and that it even took the centaurs years to even become 'acceptable' in the trade. He also stressed the point that, no matter how knowledgeable a centaur was at reading the signs, they could still be wrong. Nothing was foolproof.

"He's not very definite on anything, is he?" Ron whispered as they put out their fire.

"He's right, though," Bryt whispered back, "Dumbledore himself said once that everyone makes mistakes."

"Hopefully he's mistaken about this war thing," Ron said.

Bryt was just about to tell Ron she seriously doubted it—especially with everything about Voldemort recently—when the bell rang and she jumped, looking around. She had gotten so lost in the realism of the forest setting that she had forgotten she was still inside Hogwarts castle. Bryt got her things together and stood up with Harry and Ron, starting to follow the crowd of students towards the door.

"Harry Potter, a word, please," Firenze said.

Bryt and Ron paused at the door, looking back between Firenze and Harry.

"You two may stay, but close the door, please."

Ron quickly closed the door after the last student left. Bryt stared at Firenze, wondering what he wanted.

"Harry Potter, you are a friend of Hagrid's, are you not?" Firenze asked.

"Yes," Harry replied.

"Then give him a warning for me. His attempt is not working. He would do better to abandon it."

Bryt stared at Firenze in confusion. What was he talking about? Bryt doubted it had anything to do with Hagrid's poor performance as a teacher recently. This had to be something much larger. Bryt gripped her hand tightly around her bag, suddenly a bit worried.

"His attempt is not working?" Harry asked, sounding as confused as Bryt felt.

"And he would do best to abandon it," Firenze repeated, "I would warn Hagrid myself, but I am banished—it would be unwise for me to go too near to the forest now—Hagrid has troubles enough without a centaurs' battle."

"But—what's Hagrid attempting to do?" Harry asked.

"Hagrid has recently rendered me a great service," Firenze said, staring at Harry, "And he has long since earned my respect for the care he shows all living creatures. I shall not betray his secret. But he must be brought to his senses. The attempt is not working. Tell him, Harry Potter. Good day to you."

Bryt, Harry, and Ron left the room after that, still confused.

"What was that about?" Bryt asked.

"I don't know," Harry said, "Or how I'll be able to get that message to Hagrid."

"Maybe pretend to leave something in class, so you can talk to him without Umbridge hovering around?" Bryt asked.

"Maybe..." Harry said slowly, "What do you think he's up to?"

"I don't know," Ron said, "Think it has anything to do with those bruises he has?"

"I doubt Firenze would keep it from us if it was something life-threatening," Bryt said slowly, trying to reassure herself, "So we shouldn't worry too much about it, right?"

"Right," Ron said, then grinning, "Besides, we've got better things to look forward to. Like tonight."

Bryt started grinning herself, suddenly remembering they had a DA meeting that night. Not a normal one, either. Tonight, they were going to finally start learning Patronuses. Bryt couldn't wait.


	36. Patronus Practice

Successfully casting a Patronus turned out to be a lot harder than Bryt had expected. By their third practice with it, Bryt could still do nothing more than little puffs of vapor. She wasn't alone, though. So far, only a handful of people had managed to conjure their Patronus: Luna, of all people, had been the first and her silvery hare now made laps around the room, Cho's silvery swan right behind. Hermione was the third, her Patronus being an otter that kept circling around her.

Bryt had tried every memory she could think of. When she first met Hermione in Diagon Alley, and Harry and Ron on the Hogwarts Express. Learning Sofí and Julio were part of the magical world. Riding Buckbeak in the first Care of Magical Creatures class. The first Hogsmeade visit. Finding out Mike and Drew would be attending Hogwarts. Dancing with Ron at the Yule Ball. Her first kiss with him. Learning her mother was making friends with a witch and might start becoming more accepting of the wizarding world.

Nothing worked. No matter what, she'd only get a little puff of silvery vapor for a second, then it'd disappear. Bryt huffed in frustration, looking around the room to keep herself from getting fed up and throwing her wand. Maybe that was part of her problem. She was getting so frustrated, so determined that she was going to cast that Patronus that it was somehow causing some type of block. Bryt needed to calm down and look around to distract her.

Her theory about getting frustrated seemed to be right. As she looked around, she noticed any student who seemed to be getting annoyed could do no more than little puffs of vapors. Others who seemed calmer were having better luck. Shapes started to form in their vapors, but never held long enough to make them out. For a second, Ginny's formed into something large, but it was gone before it could fully take shape. Drew's even seemed to take a shape that seemed similar to a wolf or dog before it vanished again. Bryt felt a rush of pride at that, but also a bit of embarrassment. Her own younger brother was doing better at a Patronus charm than she was.

"I did it!" Ron suddenly cried out excitedly.

Bryt turned around to see him standing a few feet away, a small silvery Jack Russell Terrier running circles around his feet. Ron watched it, looking happier than he had in months. When he looked at Bryt, she couldn't help but start grinning herself. At times like this, it was impossible for her to be annoyed around Ron. When he was this happy, it was just infectious with her.

Then a thought hit her and Bryt looked down at her wand. Maybe she was going about this spell the wrong way. Yes, she was thinking a lot about happy memories, but maybe she was focusing far too much on the memories themselves. Maybe she shouldn't be focusing on it, but on how she felt during those memories.

Bryt took a deep breath and sighed, staring ahead of her as she tried to find the memory to test her theory. She decided to start with her first kiss with Ron and the pure joy she felt when she realized her feelings for him were returned. Slowly, the thoughts started to shift. The way she felt when Ron smiled at her, how nice it was just to be close to him, how safe she felt around Ron, no matter what the situation...Bryt was grinning now, holding tight to those feelings as she raised her wand.

"_Expecto Patronum!_"

The usual silvery mist sprung from the tip of Bryt's wand and, after a second, it started to take shape. Bryt held her breath, mesmerized by what was in front of her and feeling the anxious hope building up within her, mixing with her happy feelings she had been focusing on. Slowly, the mist formed more and Bryt stared at it, wanting eagerly to see what animal it'd become, or if it'd even fully form at all. After a second, Bryt left out a laugh of relief and joy, bouncing on the spot as her Patronus formed into an instantly recognizable shape: a beautiful, silvery German Shepherd.

"I did it," Bryt said, grinning so much her face was hurting a bit, "I did it!"

Bryt immediately looked over to Ron, who was still grinning at her as her German Shepherd started running circles around the room.

"Congratulations!" they both said together, then laughed. It was hard not to be in a good mood now. It was as if they were on some type of high—like the time they ate too many sweets over the Christmas holidays in their second year and kept laughing over absolutely nothing at times. It was an amazing feeling—especially with all the drama that'd been happening over the last several months.

"Bryt?"

Bryt turned around and saw Mike and Natalie had come over.

"What's up?" Bryt asked.

"Can you help us with our Patronuses?" Natalie was the one to ask, her face pink and sounding as if she didn't like the idea of asking for help.

"Sure," Bryt said, "Think Drew needs some help, too?"

"He's doing really well with the spell," Mike said, glancing over to where Drew's wand gave off a silvery vapor that once again started to become something canine but vanishing before it could fully form.

"Doesn't mean he wouldn't accept some help," Ron said, surprising Bryt. He was often like Natalie, not wanting to accept help from others. Being able to cast his Patronus had really set him in a good mood—that or he just liked the idea of helping someone else for a change.

"I'll let Drew work on his own," Bryt said, "He'll come to me if he needs help."

Bryt also didn't want Drew thinking that she thought he couldn't manage the spell on his own, especially when he seemed on the verge of getting it to go right.

"What've we been doing wrong?" Mike asked, "All we get is puffs of silver. We're not even getting it to stay like some of the others here."

"Are you concentrating on happy memories?" Ron asked and both nodded.

"What memory did you use?" Mike asked. Bryt could feel the heat rising to her face and noticed Ron was going a little red as well as he glanced at her.

"Well, I didn't so much use a memory," Bryt said, "I focused more on _feelings_. Like how I felt when I'm around people I love."

There was no way she was going to tell her gossiping, teasing brother that she really only focused on being with Ron.

"So I should focus on what I feel when I'm around my family?" Natalie asked, confused.

"Or your friends," Bryt said, "Or just any powerful memories that have strong feelings attached to them."

Mike and Natalie nodded and Natalie began screwing up her face in concentration while Mike stared off into space, twirling his wand in his hand.

"Here I thought only you did that," Ron whispered.

"Did what?" Bryt asked, giving Ron a confused look. Ron nodded towards Mike.

"You get that same look and start playing with things when you're thinking."

Bryt raised an eyebrow at Ron, feeling a bit confused and flattered. It was very nice to know Ron paid so much attention to her—well, she already knew it, so it was more-so nice to hear it out loud. Though it was a bit confusing to be told about something she did subconsciously. Bryt glanced back at her little brother, starting to wonder what other habits that she noticed in him and Drew that she often did herself without realizing it.

Bryt didn't get to think on it too long as the door behind her opened. Bryt and Ron exchanged a confused look before turning around, their confusion growing when they recognized Dobby making his way through the crowd towards Harry. The Patronuses people had conjured all began to fade away as people realized there was a guest in the room.

"Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said, his voice shaking as he reached Harry, "Dobby has come to warn you...But the house elves have been warned not to tell..."

Dobby suddenly started running for the wall. Bryt let out a yelp, covering her mouth with her hands in horror. Luckily, Harry managed to catch the house elf before he could do any damage.

"What happened, Dobby?" Harry asked, holding Dobby firmly, obviously trying to keep him from trying anything else.

"Harry Potter...She...she..."

"Who's 'she', Dobby?" Harry asked, looking almost terrified, "Umbridge?"

Dobby gave a nod, then tried to break free of Harry's grip. Harry held the house elf firm, though. Bryt gripped Mike's arm next to her, pulling her brother closer protectively, feeling sympathy towards Dobby and fear towards whatever was about to happen.

"What about her?" Harry asked, "Dobby—she hasn't found out about this—about us—about the DA?" Dobby didn't say anything, but apparently the answer was clear on his face because Harry's own face went pale. "Is she coming?"

Dobby began stomping the floor hard and cried out, "Yes, Harry Potter, yes!"

Bryt tightened her grip on her brother's arm so hard that he let out a yelp, trying to pry loose. That yelp was the only noise heard through the silence that had fallen through the entire room. Umbridge had found out about the DA. She was coming now. Harry, still gripping Dobby, looked around the room.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" he yelled, "RUN!"

It was as if Harry had flipped a switch. Everyone dashed for the door at once, Bryt still keeping a grip on her brother's arm—he, in turn, was clinging to Natalie by the wrist. As Bryt, Ron, Mike, and Natalie squeezed out the door, Bryt noticed Drew and his friends dashing down one hallway among a group of Hufflepuffs. Bryt let out a sigh of relief as she followed behind Ron, struggling to keep up with his long strides. Drew was in safe hands with Hannah and Ernie.

"The common room's closest," Natalie said as Hermione caught up to them around the corner. They didn't need telling twice. The five of them pushed forward, Bryt ignoring her pounding heart as they ran. It was barely a minute before they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, barked out the password, and went tumbling through the porthole.

Relief rushed through Bryt as the portrait closed behind them. They were in the common room. They were safe. Bryt let go of her brother's arm, stumbling over to a couch near the fire, and collapsing onto it next to Ron. Hermione sunk into a nearby armchair and Mike and Natalie both flopped down onto the floor. Bryt closed her eyes, leaning sideways against Ron and taking long, slow breaths to calm down her racing heart, but it was a hard thing to do when her mind kept going to the other members of the DA. Did they make it to safety? What would happen if anyone had been caught? Bryt thought of the friendships she had before joining the DA, and the ones she formed through the meetings themselves, and how she'd feel if any of them ended up expelled. It was a horrible feeling to think about.

"Do you think Drew made it somewhere?" Mike asked in a small voice. Bryt looked over at him to see he was looking a bit pale, hugging his legs against him. Natalie put a hand on his shoulder, though she looked worried herself.

"Hannah and Ernie wouldn't let anything happen to anyone in their House," Bryt assured Mike, though she silently prayed she was right. She desperately tried not to think about what would happen if Drew was caught—he'd be expelled for sure. Bryt wouldn't be able to handle that. She knew she couldn't take coming home for holidays and seeing Drew there, knowing he couldn't use magic anymore...

_'No, Hannah and Ernie'd make sure he's safe,'_ Bryt thought, again hoping she was right. She _had_ to be right. A lot of things had gone wrong this year, but this one thing...Her brother couldn't get expelled.

Ron seemed to tell Bryt was getting tense because she felt his arm tighten around her. She looked up at him to see he looked as worried as she did. Bryt suddenly realized he was most likely thinking about Fred, George, and Ginny. He understood exactly what she was going through at the moment.

Bryt rested her head against Ron again, just glad for his comfort as she stared towards the porthole leaving the common room. She knew some people would go to the library or towards bathrooms to hide—maybe Harry was in one of those rooms. All she could do right now was sit and wait for news. Wait for familiar faces to come through the porthole so she'd know they were okay.

**xxxxx**

**A/N:** The reason behind my decision to give Bryt a German Shepherd Patronus is simply because I honestly think it's the best one for her. German Shepherds are often seen as strong, self-confident, friendly, and loyal dogs who're also extremely protective. Those traits are some of the most basic, and most character-driven, traits to Bryt. I feel a German Shepherd is simply the perfect Patronus for her.


	37. New Headmistress

Bryt's corner of the common room was unnaturally still and quiet for the next hour, all of them intently watching the common room entrance for any member of the DA to come through. Slowly, people came in one-by-one. Angelina was first with Katie and Alicia, soon after followed by Fred, George, and Lee. Lavender and Parvati came in after that. Ginny came in later with Colin and Dennis Creevey. Dean and Seamus came in a few minutes after that and Bryt a huge wave of disappointment for Seamus. That had been his first ever DA meeting and for it to end the way it had...

They all glanced around the room when they entered, but only Ginny came over to Bryt's little group. It was better that way—it might attract too much attention for so many people to group around each other at one time.

The unasked question was apparently clear on their faces because Ginny shook her head as she sat down. She hadn't seen Harry and didn't know where he was. Bryt stayed leaning against Ron, her bracelet clung in her hands as Ron kept his arm around her and Mike leaned against Bryt's legs from where he sat on the floor, his own arms wrapped around his knees as he stared intently at the entrance to the common room.

It was the second-most nerve-wrecking experience Bryt had ever been through—the first being the wait before she could visit Grimmauld Place for Christmas holidays—finally ending when Harry came into the common room. Bryt and Ron both sat up, though there was no relief. Harry had been gone a while. There was still the chance he had been caught—the chance that even though they made it to the common room, they'd all still be expelled.

Harry made his way over to their group and sat down and Bryt could instantly tell something was wrong. Her worst fears started swirling in her head again as she stared at Harry.

"What happened?" Hermione was the first to be able to ask the question they were all thinking.

"Are we in trouble?" Natalie asked weakly, "Expelled?"

"Everyone in the DA is safe," Harry said and Bryt let out a sigh of relief, suddenly feeling a bit light-headed, as if she'd drank too much butterbeer at once. No one was getting expelled. Drew, Terry, Hannah...They were all fine.

"But something bad still happened?" Mike asked, moving so he was sitting on his knees.

Harry looked between Mike and Natalie, then looked right to Bryt. Bryt instantly realized something major _had_ happened. He was afraid to talk about it with Mike and Natalie there.

"Go ahead, Harry," Bryt said, "If we send them away, they'll just hide nearby and listen in anyway."

Mike got a look on his face that showed Bryt was right and Natalie looked genuinely offended, as if the thought would have never occurred to her. If Bryt didn't know Natalie better she would have bought into the act.

Harry took a deep breath, leaning forward before starting.

"Malfoy caught me almost right after I got out of the room," he said quietly, "Umbridge was with him—"

"How'd you get out of getting expelled?" Mike asked, his eyes widening. That's what Bryt wanted to know as well. Being caught by Umbridge was a chance of instant expulsion. Whatever happened must have been even bigger than Bryt had first thought.

"I'm getting to it," Harry said, "Umbridge took me to Dumbledore's office and Fudge was there with Percy and a couple of Aurors."

Ron glared at the mention of his brother and Bryt took his hand, squeezing it lightly. She had a feeling that if she had been in Harry's place, she would have punched Percy in the face the second she saw him.

"The Minister of Magic was here?" Natalie asked, her eyes widening now, "You mean St. Mungo's finally managed to get his head out of his arse?"

Despite herself, Bryt laughed. Ron, Ginny, and Mike did as well, and Hermione just shook her head. Even Harry gave a small smile, but it was gone quickly.

"He was there because Umbridge called him," Harry said, "Because she was tipped off about the DA by Marietta Edgecombe—you know, Cho's friend."

"Always thought she was dodgy," Ron said. Bryt resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She had noticed how the girl didn't seem to want to be at the DA, but she would have thought Edgecombe would have gotten used to the group and enjoy it by now. It'd been six months, after all.

"Marietta was distraught because of that spell you put on the parchment, Hermione," Harry said, the continuing quickly when Mike and Natalie looked like they were about to ask something, "She wouldn't say anything, no matter what Umbridge asked about."

"I bet Umbridge didn't like that," Bryt said with a short laugh, though regretted it slightly when she got the mental image of Edgecombe with the word "SNEAK" across her face in pimples. Still, she betrayed the DA. Betrayed the people she'd been around for six months.

"No, she didn't," Harry said, "She had the parchment, too, with all our names on it. But..." Harry trailed off, obviously trying to figure out how to word what happened. "Dumbledore took full responsibility for the DA."

"He what?" Hermione and Ginny asked together. Bryt just stared at Harry in shock. Dumbledore hadn't known about the club at all, but he took the blame to keep them out of trouble?

"He took full responsibility," Harry said again, "He said that he instructed me to form the club and that tonight was supposed to be our first meeting."

"So that's why we're not all expelled now?" Natalie asked. Harry nodded.

"Fudge tried to get Dumbledore arrested," Harry said, "But it didn't work out so well. Dumbledore cast some spell and escaped. Once Fudge realized Dumbledore was gone, he told Professor McGonagall to take me and Marietta off to bed. Professor McGonagall sent me here while she took Marietta up to the Hospital Wing."

Silence hung in the air for several minutes after Harry finished. Mike, who was again leaning against Bryt's legs, was the first one to speak up, his voice quiet.

"So it's over now," he said weakly, "Umbridge won."

"Only if we let her," Natalie hissed, "I'm not taking this lying down. Umbridge might end up headmistress, but I'm going to make sure she has a hell of a time taking charge."

"Hear, hear!" Ron and Ginny chorused. Bryt and Harry grinned, but Hermione frowned at them.

"We really shouldn't push it," she said, "We don't want to give Umbridge an excuse to expel us. She already knows we were part of the DA, and since Dumbledore made sure none of us would get punished for this, Umbridge is going to be looking for any excuse to get us in trouble now."

"We'll just make sure we're not caught," Natalie said and Mike nodded enthusiastically, straightening up.

"Hermione's right, though," Bryt spoke up, then on everyone's looks, "At least for now, anyway. Umbridge is going to be looking for any excuse to get to us. Until all this calms down and blows over, we need to keep our heads down. Umbridge will pay for this, though. She won't get away with it."

Mike and Natalie looked torn, but finally Mike nodded.

"Okay," he said, "If you think we should stay low, I will."

Bryt couldn't help but grin a little, but she also wondered if the only reason he was agreeing was the fact that Bryt was his big sister and was still at an age where he looked up to her so much. If he was a couple years older, would he so readily agree to this?

"We should head on to bed," Hermione said, looking at her watch. Bryt nodded in agreement and gave her brother a quick hug—much to his annoyance—before kissing Ron lightly on the cheek and heading up the stairs to the girls' dormitories with Hermione, Ginny, and Natalie. She had a feeling tomorrow was going to be a bad day.

**xxxxx**

As Bryt had feared, the next morning brought with it a new decree that declared Umbridge the new Hogwarts Headmistress. Bryt just hoped that Mike would hold to his word and not start trouble—and try to keep Natalie out of trouble as well. Hopefully Natalie was more reasonable than Sofí and Bryt was once again glad that Sofí didn't go to Hogwarts. There was no telling what she'd do if she had to deal with Umbridge—though Bryt knew that Sofí wouldn't have even lasted until Halloween before she started to wreak havoc.

The only news that seemed to travel faster than Umbridge being appointed headmistress was that of Dumbledore's escape. Bryt had the sneaking suspicion that Mike and Natalie were at least partly responsible for both the very accurate and completely outrageous stories—Natalie had been telling another girl at breakfast that Fudge was currently in St. Mungo's with a pumpkin for a head with such confidence that Bryt almost believe it herself.

Harry had been approached several times throughout the morning by DA members, all wanting to know what had happened, though Harry gave them much more summarized versions from the one he gave the night before.

"Dumbledore will be back before long," Ernie said with a nod after Harry had told him the story on the way to lunch, "They couldn't keep him away in our second year and they won't be able to this time." Ernie glanced around and then lowered his voice—something that had to be a great accomplishment for the usually-loud Hufflepuff, "The Fat Friar told me that Umbridge tried to get back into his office last night after they'd searched the castle and grounds for him. Couldn't get past the gargoyle. The Head's office has sealed itself against her. Apparently she had a right little tantrum."

"I bet she did," Bryt said with a laugh, "Serves her right, power-crazy old b—"

"Now do you _really_ want to finish that sentence, Watkins?"

Bryt turned to see Malfoy just inside the doorway with his usual bodyguards. Bryt glared, opening her mouth to tell Malfoy to piss off when he spoke again.

"Afraid I'm going to have to dock a few points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff," he said with that smirk that made Bryt want to walk over and punch him.

"You can't take points from fellow prefects, Malfoy," Ernie shot back.

"I know prefects can't dock points from each other," Malfoy said, "But members of the Inquisitorial Squad—"

"The what?" Hermione cut in.

"The Inquisitorial Squad, Granger," Malfoy said, tapping something silver that was pinned under his prefect badge, "A select group of students who are supportive of the Ministry of Magic, hand-picked by Professor Umbridge. Anyway, members of the Inquisitorial Squad do have the power to dock points...So, Watkins, I'll have five points from you for being rude about our new headmistress...Macmillan, five for contradicting me...Five because I don't like you, Potter...Weasley, your shirt's untucked, so I'll have another five for that...Oh, yeah, I forgot, you're mudbloods, Granger, Watkins, so ten for that..."

Ron went for his wand and Bryt grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back, though she continued to glare at Malfoy herself.

"New Head, new time," Malfoy said with a smirk, obviously pleased with himself, "Be good now, Potty, Weasel King."

Malfoy headed into the Great Hall, laughing with Crabbe and Goyle. Bryt watched him go, cursing under her breath. Every time she thought Malfoy couldn't be more annoying, he did something to prove her wrong.

"He was bluffing," Ernie said worriedly, "He can't be allowed to dock points like that...That would be ridiculous...It would completely undermine the prefect system..."

Bryt turned towards the giant hourglasses the kept track of the House points and got a sickening feeling when she saw how empty Gryffindor's looked—they had been in the lead that morning, but now they seemed to be in last place. In fact, three of the four hourglasses were suddenly nearly empty. The only untouched one was the Slytherin's.

_'Damn it,'_ Bryt thought, glaring at the Slytherin hourglass. She knew today was going to be bad, but this was far worse than she had expected.

"Noticed, have you?"

Bryt looked over to see Fred and George at the bottom of the marble staircase, making their way over to them.

"Malfoy just docked us all about fifty points," Harry said, sounding on-edge.

"Yeah, Montague tried to do us during break," George said.

"Tried?" Bryt asked, raising an eyebrow at the twins.

"He never managed to get all the words out," Fred said with a grin, "Due to the fact we forced him headfirst into that Vanishing Cabinet on the first floor."

"But you'll get into terrible trouble!" Hermione said, staring at Fred and George in shock.

"Not until Montague reappears and that could take weeks, dunno where we sent him," Fred said with a shrug, "Anyway, we've decided we don't care about getting into trouble anymore."

"Have you ever?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Of course we have. Never been expelled, have we?"

_'Good point,'_ Bryt thought. She had a feeling that Fred and George could do a lot worse than their usual pranks if they really wanted to.

"We've always stopped short of causing real mayhem," Fred said.

"But now?"

"Well, now—" George started.

"—what with Dumbledore gone—" Fred continued.

"—we reckon a bit of mayhem—"

"—is exactly what our dear new Head deserves."

Bryt instantly thought to the night before with Natalie swearing she was going to make Umbridge's reign hell. She shouldn't be surprised that Fred and George were going to end up doing the same—only they weren't going to be the type who'd be talked out of carrying it through.

"What if you get expelled?" Bryt asked. She was all for causing havoc for Umbridge, but not at such a high risk—not after the extremely close call they had the night before.

"You don't get it, do you?" Fred asked with that grin that said nothing was going to stop them now, "We don't care about staying anymore. We'd walk out right now if we weren't determined to do our bit for Dumbledore first. So anyway, phase one is about to begin. I'd get in the Great Hall for lunch if I were you, that way the teachers will see you can't have anything to do with it."

"Anything to do with what?" Hermione asked, sounding nervous.

"You'll see," George said with a grin that mirrored Fred's, "Run along now."

Before Bryt or the others could say anything, Fred and George headed off into the crowd. Ernie, who had been quiet through the whole conversation, suddenly said something about homework and hurried off very quickly away from them.

"I think we should get out of here, you know," Hermione said, "Just in case."

"My thoughts exactly," Bryt said. She was curious about what Fred and George were up to, but she didn't want to get blamed for whatever it was.

They had just stepped into the Great Hall when Filch came up to them, telling Harry that Umbridge wanted to see him. Bryt gave Harry a worried look before Harry headed off towards Umbridge's office. Bryt turned back around with Ron and Hermione, heading on into the Great Hall for lunch.

"What do you think that's about?" Bryt asked as they sat down, leaning forward to talk in a whisper.

"I think it's obvious," Hermione replied in a whisper of her own, "She's going to question Harry on where Dumbledore is."

"But he doesn't know that," Ron said, "Does he?"

"I don't think so," Bryt said, "Dumbledore went wherever he did in secret. It'd be a risk to tell anyone, especially Harry considering—"

Bryt cut herself off, but it was clear on both Ron and Hermione's faces that they were thinking about Harry's link to Voldemort. There was no way Harry could know where Dumbledore was hiding.

A loud explosion echoed from somewhere above and everyone in the Great Hall looked up at once. More bangs started, followed by screams. Bryt, Ron, and Hermione all looked at each other and spoke at once:

"Fred and George."

They jumped to their feet with the rest of the students and started running for the door, all eager to see what was going on. They moved with the crowd up the stairs to the first floor, where the crowd was stopping. Bryt, Ron, and Hermione pushed their way through the crowd towards the front, finally able to see what the noise was.

It seemed Fred and George had set off an entire store's supply of fireworks at once. Everywhere Bryt looked, a different type of firework was whizzing around, ranging from sparking wheels to rockets to dragons of any color imaginable.

"Those two are brilliant," Bryt said, grinning brightly as she stared around them. Students were standing in small groups out of the way of fireworks, cheering them on. Bryt could see Umbridge and Filch nearby, Filch actually trying to get rid of the fireworks with a broom. The look on Umbridge's face was the best thing Bryt had seen in a while.

"They are going to be in so much trouble," Hermione said, but, surprisingly, she didn't sound as chastising as she had earlier. She was actually grinning herself as she looked around.

It turned out the day was much better than Bryt could have ever imagined. She thought with Umbridge as headmistress, things were going to be worse than ever. She would have never hoped for the pure joy she felt throughout the day—one that grew every time a firework got loose in a classroom and the teacher sent a student to get Umbridge, each claiming that they couldn't take care of the fireworks themselves because they 'didn't have the authority'. It was one thing that Fred and George were causing havoc, but seeing even the strictest teachers such as McGonagall giving signs they approved made things so much better.

Though the biggest surprise came that night when Hermione told them she felt like taking the night off from their homework.

"After all, the Easter holidays start on Friday, we'll have plenty of time then," Hermione said.

"Are you feeling all right?" Ron asked, sounding as dumbstruck as Bryt felt. Hermione never wanted to put off homework before—no matter what great thing had happened during that day.

"Now that you mention it, I think I am feeling a bit..._rebellious_," Hermione replied with a smirk.

Bryt laughed and leaned back, staring off towards the window where a group of second years—including Mike and Natalie—were watching the fireworks out the window, laughing and cheering. She had feared today was going to be bad, but she was pleasantly surprised. Today had been the best day she'd had in a long, long time.


	38. Life Choices

Easter holidays brought with it the usual routine of Hermione forming study schedules for herself, Bryt, Ron, and Harry—these much more thorough considering this was their OWL year. Though as they say waiting while Hermione worked, Harry also had a bit of news for them. Snape was no longer teaching him Occlumency.

"Snape reckons I can carry on by myself now I've got the basics," Harry said in response to Bryt, Hermione, and Ron's shocked expressions. Occlumency was something extremely important. Snape shouldn't just stop giving Harry lessons.

"So you've stopped having funny dreams?" Hermione asked, studying Harry closely.

"Pretty much."

"Well, I don't think Snape should stop until you're absolutely sure you can control them!" Hermione said, "Harry, I think you should go back to him and ask—"

"No," Harry cut in sharply and Bryt glanced at Ron, hoping Harry wasn't about to lose his temper on them again. He'd gone quite a while without that lately and Bryt really didn't want it to start up again.

"Just drop it, Hermione, okay?" Harry went on.

Hermione opened her mouth, apparently about to argue more, but Ron spoke up first, obviously in an attempt to distract her.

"I still can't believe we only have six weeks until our exams," he said.

"How can that come as a shock?" Hermione turned back to the schedules in her hands and Bryt shot Ron a grateful look.

"I dunno," Ron said, "There's been a lot going on."

"Well, there you are," Hermione handed Ron and Bryt identical study schedules, "If you two follow that, you should do fine."

Bryt stared at her schedule and sighed. It seemed every waking moment—aside from one afternoon—was going to be spent on studying.

"You've given me an evening off every week!" Ron said excitedly.

"That's for Quidditch practice."

"What's the point?" Ron asked, slouching back in his chair, "We've got about as much chance of winning the Quidditch Cup this year as Dad's got of becoming Minister of Magic."

"You never know," Bryt said, though she couldn't help but agree with Ron. They just weren't a team this year. There was no way they were going to stand any chance at the Quidditch Cup.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione suddenly asked and Bryt looked over to see Harry was staring intently at a wall nearby.

"What?" Harry asked, snapping from his daze, then grabbed the closest book and hid his face behind it, "Nothing."

Bryt stared at him, knowing there was something wrong. What, though, she couldn't tell. He'd definitely been in a bad mood the past couple of days.

"I saw Cho earlier," Hermione said slowly, "And she looked really miserable too...Have you two had a row again?"

"Yeah, we have," Harry said and Bryt instantly understood. Harry had fancied Cho for two years and their relationship just seemed to keep going downhill after it started. Bryt remembered how it had been for her when her relationship with Terry had gone sour.

"What about?" Hermione asked.

"That sneak friend of hers, Marietta."

"Yeah, well, I don't blame you!" Ron said, then launched into a rant on just exactly what was bad about Cho's friend, the top of the list being her betrayal to the DA. Bryt, not wanting to listen, pulled over her latest piece of Transfiguration homework and tuned Ron out the best she could as she set to work.

**xxxxx**

Easter holidays where nowhere near as enjoyable as they'd been the past four years at Hogwarts. Sure, during the years before, the holidays were spent catching up on homework, but they still had time to goof around and relax. This year was far different because of the OWLs and Bryt was beginning to have weird dreams about the different subjects she spent all day studying. Quidditch was even worse. Every practice seemed to be worse than the last—the most spectacular failure being when one practice only lasted about five minutes and was canceled because Sloper somehow managed to knock himself out with his own bat.

The only break they got from both studying and Quidditch came at the end of the holidays when a notice went up about career advice with the Head of House. Then, their time was spent going through leaflets advertising different careers.

Bryt, already knowing what she wanted to do, simply sat with the others and gave suggestions, though she kept looking for one specific leaflet she knew Ron would be interested in seeing.

"Well, I don't fancy Healing," Ron said as he dropped a leaflet baring the symbol of a wand crossed with a bone, "They want at least an E at NEWT level in Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. I mean, blimey...Don't want much, do they?"

"Well, it's a very responsible job!" Hermione said sharply, putting down her leaflet on working in Muggle Relations, "Julio always talks about how being a Healer is one of the toughest jobs to get into. They take it all very seriously."

"Of course they do," Bryt said, shifting through the leaflets scattered around, "When your job involves taking other peoples' health and lives into your hands, it makes sense they want the best. Aha!" Bryt finally found the leaflet she'd been looking for—not surprised at all it took her so long since it was dark and quite a bit smaller than the others—and leaned back, holding it out to Ron, "There you go!"

Ron stared at Bryt in confusion as he took the leaflet, staring down at the words "Do You Have What It Takes to Join the Aurors?" printed on the front. Ron looked back up at Bryt, his confusion turning to surprise, but before either could say anything, Fred and George sat down with them.

"Ginny's had a word with us about you," Fred said, looking directly at Harry, "She says you need to talk to Sirius?"

"What?" Bryt and Hermione chorused, staring at Harry in shock. Had Harry lost his mind?

"Don't be ridiculous!" Hermione continued, leaning forward and talking in a stern whisper, "With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking all the owls?"

"Well, we think we can find a way around that," George said with that smile that meant trouble, "It's a simple matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?"

"What's the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?" Fred went on, "No point at all, we answered ourselves. And of course, we'd have messed up people's studying, too, which would be the very last thing we'd want to do."

Bryt fought hard not to snort in disbelief. She had a feeling Fred and George had been quiet because they were planning something big, not being courteous to those studying.

"But it's business as usual from tomorrow," Fred said, "And if we're going to be causing a bit of uproar, why not do it so that Harry can have a chat with Sirius?"

"Yes, but still," Hermione said slowly, "Even if you do cause a diversion, how is Harry supposed to talk to him?"

"Umbridge's office," Harry said and Bryt stared at him with her mouth hanging open.

"Harry," she started, "Umbridge's office? Have you..._Have you lost your mind?_ Even if, _if_ you could get Umbridge away from the office, how the bloody hell will you get in there? I'd bet my life that Umbridge has her door charmed so _Alohomora_ won't work."

"Sirius's knife," Harry said simply.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked.

"Christmas before last, Sirius gave me a knife that'll open any lock," Harry said, "Even on doors that _Alohomora_ can't open."

"What do you think about this?" Hermione spun to Ron with a tone that showed she was trying to get support of the only other authority figure around—which, technically, Ron was considering he was a Prefect.

"I...I dunno," Ron said, sinking back in his chair and looking horrified about being dragged into the argument, "If Harry wants to do it, it's up to him, isn't it?"

"Spoken like a true friend and Weasley," Fred said, giving Ron a slap on the back, "Right then. We're thinking of doing it tomorrow just after lessons, because it should cause maximum impact if everybody's in the corridors—Harry, we'll set it off in the east wing somewhere, draw her right away from her own office—I reckon we should be able to guarantee you, what, twenty minutes?"

"Easy," George said.

"What diversion are you two planning?" Bryt asked, not liking the sound of any of this.

"You'll see," Fred said with that trouble's-coming grin again as he and George stood up, "At least, you will if you trot along to Gregory the Smarmy's corridor round about five o'clock tomorrow."

Fred and George left Bryt, Ron, Harry, and Hermione among the piles of career pamphlets, all of them worried about whatever it was Fred and George were planning now.

**xxxxx**

It was hard for Bryt to concentrate in her classes the next day and it had nothing to do with the fact she had her career advice meeting with McGonagall that afternoon—and would, thankfully, be missing her final class, Defense Against the Dark Arts, for it—or wondering what Fred and George were up to. The classes were hard to concentrate during simply for Hermione's constant warnings to Harry about not going through with breaking into Umbridge's office. Even though Bryt agreed with Hermione, she was still getting tired of listening to her all morning long.

Afternoon fared better considering Bryt, Ron, and Harry had Divination—and the fact that, even if Hermione still took the class, Harry had career advice and would be missing the class anyway. After Divination was over, Bryt gave Ron a light kiss on the cheek, heading up the stairs towards McGonagall's office, passing Umbridge along the way. Bryt suddenly found herself a lot more grateful she was missing the class when she noticed how livid the woman seemed.

"Right on time, Miss Watkins," McGonagall greeted as Bryt came into the office, then she motioned to a chair on the other side of her desk, "Have a seat."

Bryt nodded and walked over, sitting down, unable to keep herself from feeling a bit nervous. After all, any time she'd been in any office with her Head of House had been under dire circumstances or her getting into serious trouble. Sitting here now for something that was neither was strange for her.

"As you know, Miss Watkins," McGonagall started, sounding as if she were reciting from a speech she'd given many times before—which Bryt was positive she had—but she still sounded sincere about it, "This meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and help you decide which subjects you should continue into the sixth and seventh years. Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts?"

"Yes ma'am," Bryt said, sitting as straight in her chair as she possibly could, "Ever since I heard about it in my third year, I've wanted to join MCRS, you know, the Magical Creature Removal Squad."

McGonagall nodded, sorting through the leaflets on her desk and Bryt fought hard not to fidget and she couldn't help but fear her teacher was about to tell her that she had picked the wrong career and should choose something else. That's why Bryt felt a bit of relief when McGonagall picked up a leaflet that read "Working With Creatures Daily at MCRS" and opened it up.

"The Magical Creature Removal Squad calls for high marks, Miss Watkins," McGonagall said, "They expect at 'Exceeds Expectations' or better in at least four subjects in NEWT level, and there is additional training that can take up to two years. It's a very difficult career path."

"I know that, ma'am," Bryt said with a nod. After all, she'd been looking up anything she could about MCRS over the past two years, not to mention all she heard from Terry.

"I suppose you'll want to know the classes you'll need to continue?" McGonagall asked.

"Care of Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and Potions," Bryt listed off instantly, "Though I plan to carry on with Herbology as well."

For a second, McGonagall almost looked as if she were smiling, but Bryt wasn't sure. She did give Bryt an approving, impressed look, however.

"You have put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?" she asked.

"Since third year, as I said, Professor," Bryt said with a grin, "I can't imagine doing anything else."

"It's nice you've put so much effort into your career plan," McGonagall said with an approving nod, "And know what classes you'll need to continue. Right now, you're averaging Exceeds Expectations in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts and Outstandings in Potions and Care of Magical Creatures, so you're doing quite well there. Professor Sprout tells me you're averaging between Acceptable and Exceeds Expectations in her class, so if you truly want to continue that class, you'll need to put more effort into your work."

Bryt nodded and McGonagall handed her the leaflet she had been reading.

"I'm sure you already know everything in here, but it wouldn't hurt to review it again," McGonagall said, "You may leave now."

"Thank you, Professor," Bryt said, grinning more as she stood up, grabbed her bag, and started out the door. She looked down at her watch and realized that by the time she got back to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, only ten minutes would be left. There was no point heading there, so Bryt turned and decided to go to the library and study. Maybe she'd look over her Herbology homework and start working on that, getting her grades up to full Exceeds Expectations. She may not _need_ to take NEWT-level Herbology, but she felt it'd be smart to be able to identify certain plants and what properties they held, especially in relation to Potions.

Bryt found a good table by the window in the library and quickly got to work, trying to get as much done as possible in the next ten minutes. When the bell rang to signal the end of the day's classes, Bryt gathered her things quickly and started for the door, but stopped short when she heard a loud bang from somewhere nearby. Bryt and several others who were in the library at the time suddenly headed off through the hallway towards the noise, and as Bryt stumbled to a stop at the source of the chaos, she found that Fred and George hadn't lied about targeting the Gregory the Smarmy corridor. They also hadn't lied about just how chaotic they were planning to be.

They had turned the entire corridor into a swamp. An _actual_ swamp.

"Those two are brilliant," Bryt muttered, staring around her in disbelief, not even daring to take another step forward, not wanting to get any muck in her shoes. She dug through her bag and got out her camera, making sure to get a couple of pictures. This was something she did not want to forget anytime soon.

Bryt heard footsteps coming and she turned, hurrying off, despite wanting to admire the swamp more. She knew that Umbridge catching her anywhere near any type of trouble would not end good for her—no matter how innocent Bryt was. Bryt made her way down to the Entrance Hall, though she ran into Hermione and Ron on the first floor. She noticed Harry wasn't with them—looked like he decided to take the chance with Umbridge's office. Bryt just hoped he didn't get caught.

"I can't believe your brothers, Ron," Bryt said in a whisper, "They turned a corridor into a _swamp_!"

"They _what_?" Ron and Hermione asked together—Ron in amazement and Hermione in horror.

"They're going to get into so much trouble!" Hermione said.

"They're brilliant!" Ron said, "I've got to see this."

"I have pictures," Bryt said, catching Ron by the arm before he started up the stairs, "Umbridge is on her way up there now, and we need to stay away. Here."

Bryt handed Ron the pictures she took and, though he looked disappointed he couldn't go see the swamp himself, he was eager to see the pictures Bryt had.

"They're brilliant," Ron said again, though Hermione still looked horrified.

"What in the world are those two thinking?" she asked, "First fireworks, now this? Do they _want_ to be expelled?"

"They did say they don't care anymore," Bryt said, "Besides, it's more trouble for Umbridge. I say this is a good thing."

Hermione looked like she was about to argue, but they heard yelling on the floor below and Filch came running by, muttering happily to himself. The three exchanged looks before following behind, making their way to the Entrance Hall and pushing their way through the crowd that had already gathered there.

Fred and George stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by students and teachers, though neither seemed in the least bit concerned. Bryt looked around and noticed Umbridge on the stairs, looking almost as pleased with herself as the twins did at the moment.

"So! You think it's amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?" Umbridge asked.

"Pretty amusing, yeah," Fred said with a grin as Filch made his way to Umbridge.

"I've got them, Headmistress," Filch said, "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting...Oh, let me do it now..."

Bryt stared at them in disgust, gripping her hands into fists and she swore she could feel the scars on the back of her left hand as if the cuts were opening again. It was one thing with Umbridge's quill scaring students' hands, but going as far as using whipping as punishment was far more sadistic.

"You two are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school," Umbridge said to Fred and George, that sickeningly sweet smile on her face again.

"You know what? I don't think we are," Fred said, still grinning himself as he turned to George, "I think we've outgrown our full-time education."

"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," George said.

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?"

"Definitely."

Fred and George both smirked, raised their wands, and called "_Accio brooms!_"

Bryt heard a crash above and seconds later, Fred and George's brooms came flying down the stairs, one of them still holding the chain that had held them to the wall in Umbridge's office.

"We won't be seeing you," Fred said as he and George mounted their broomsticks.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," George added.

Bryt suddenly had a feeling she knew what the twins were going to do and went for her camera again, knowing that this was definitely a moment that had to be caught on film.

"If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp as demonstrated upstairs," Fred said, "Come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley—Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat!" George added, pointing to Umbridge.

Umbridge let out a yell, ordering for Fred and George to be stopped, though as the Inquisitorial Squad got closer, the twins shot into the air on their brooms and the others scattered to avoid the dangling chain.

"Give her hell for us, Peeves!" Fred called.

Bryt nearly dropped her camera in shock when Peeves actually removed his hat and saluted Fred and George. She'd never seen Peeves take orders from anyone—he barely even obeyed Dumbledore. Bryt shook herself from her shock quickly, though, getting her camera ready and snapping her picture at just the right time.

Seconds later, as Bryt stared down at the miniatures of Fred and George disappearing through the castle's doors, she had a feeling this would be a story of legends at Hogwarts within years to come.


	39. Quidditch Final

Fred and George's exit from school brought with it chaos that would definitely make the twins proud. A niffler had actually been let loose in Umbridge's office at some point and students were beginning to routinely use a Bubblehead Charm when leaving classrooms because of the frequency of dropped dungbombs and stinkpellets. Students kept having to be let out of Defense Against the Dark Arts as well due to illness or bloody noses—something that was being called 'Umbridgeitis'—and very little control was being held over it, even with Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad. In fact, the Inquisitorial Squad was having problems of their own with members ending up injured or ill in some way—Bryt had been beside herself when she learned Pansy Parkinson sprouted antlers one day and wished she could have seen it. That would have been a picture she'd pay anything to get.

Peeves was the one causing the most trouble, however. Not a day went by where he didn't interrupt a class, destroy some room, or follow Umbridge around, making rude noises any time she tried to say anything. Best of all, the other teachers did absolutely nothing to help get control. In fact, most seemed to approve of the chaos.

Though Ron wasn't as happy about everything during one Charms class when they were trying to make their teacups grow legs and walk around.

"It'll be my fault Fred and George left, you wait," he said sourly, glaring at his teacup, whose legs were very thin and in no way could support the teacup, "She'll say I should've grabbed the ends of their brooms and hung on or something...Yeah, it'll be my fault."

"There's no way it's your fault, Ron," Bryt said, watching her own teacup racing around the desk with Hermione's—Bryt had improved more and more over the year in Charms and usually got most spells by the end of the first day, though it was rare for her to succeed any earlier than five minutes before the class ended and even then, her spells were never as great as Hermione's.

"I'm sure Mrs. Weasley won't blame you," Hermione said, "I mean, if it's really true they've got premises in Diagon Alley now, they must have been planned this for ages..."

"How'd they get the money for the premises, anyway?" Bryt asked, "I mean, no matter how many of their prank stuff they sold would be enough for the store. They'd probably spend most all the money they earned covering the costs of what they're making."

"It's a bit dodgy," Ron said, poking his teacup with his wand as Bryt grabbed hers before it could run off the desk.

"I've been wondering," Hermione said slowly, "Whether Mundungus has persuaded them to sell stolen goods or something awful..."

"He hasn't."

Bryt turned to Harry in surprise at the same time as Ron and Hermione asked how he knew.

"Because," Harry said, then sighed, "Because they got the gold from me. I gave them my Triwizard winnings last June."

"You _what_?" Bryt asked, staring at Harry in disbelief. He up and gave Fred and George a thousand galleons? Just like that?

"I don't regret it either," Harry said, "I didn't need the gold, and they'll be great at a joke shop."

"But this is excellent!" Ron said, looking far more excited about the fact Harry gave away so much money than Bryt ever expected him to be, "It's all your fault, Harry—Mum can't blame me at all! Can I tell her?"

Bryt snorted, looking for her teacup, but noticed it was gone and she sighed, realizing it must have ran off the desk by now.

"I suppose you better," Harry said, "'Specially if she thinks they're receiving stolen cauldrons or something."

Though their conversation fell silent, Bryt was still shocked by what Harry told them—but she couldn't help but admit it made sense as well. It was also a good thing that the money Fred and George had for making their joke items and getting a store had come from a very legal source rather than from somewhere like Mundungus.

The four didn't say anything else until they were at break half an hour later when Hermione was the first to speak again.

"Harry, have you gone back to Snape to ask about Occlumency lessons again?" she asked.

Bryt glanced to her friend, wondering the same thing. She had been hoping for news from this since Harry told them that's what he had talked to Sirius about in Umbridge's office and Sirius wanted Harry to start taking up lessons again. Bryt agreed with Sirius—especially after Ron had told them the night before that Ron was stull muttering in his sleep. A point that Hermione just brought up, which led to Ron receiving a glare from Harry. Bryt tensed a little, wrapping her hand around Ron's, hoping Harry didn't start yelling at them in the middle of the courtyard.

"You were only muttering a bit," Ron said, his ears going red, "Something about 'just a bit farther'."

"I dreamed I was watching you lot play Quidditch. I was trying to get you to stretch out a bit farther to grab the Quaffle."

Bryt tightened her hand around Ron's and glared at Harry. It didn't matter if it was a dream, Bryt thought it was extremely rude that Harry said so to Ron's face—especially with how little self-esteem Ron already had.

"You know," Ron said after a moment, looking embarrassed and staring off into the distance, "If Montague doesn't recover before Slytherin plays Hufflepuff, we might be in with a chance of winning the Cup."

"You're right," Bryt said, jumping at the chance that a conversation about Quidditch wasn't sending Ron into another moody self-loathing, "There's always that chance as long as Slytherin loses on Saturday."

**xxxxx**

It turned out luck was on their side because Slytherin did indeed lose to Hufflepuff, though just barely. It seemed to give a very small amount of renewed hope to the Gryffindor team—they even seemed to perform more as an actual team during their final practice before the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match.

The best part was even Ron was starting to become more confident, though in a bit of a weird way, saying he stood a chance simply for the fact he couldn't get any worse at playing.

"Just tune out if the Slytherins start that damn song again," Bryt said to Ron as they walked onto the pitch after Angelina's pre-game pep-talk—that was actually a bit more inspiring than from games before.

"You've said that," Ron said, sounding both annoyed and appreciative, "Three times now."

"Well, you'll hear it again," Bryt said with a smirk, then held up her left hand, showing off her turquoise bracelet, "Sure you don't want to borrow it?"

Ron's look of horror was enough of an answer for Bryt and she laughed, mounting her broom with the rest of the team. Soon, they were in the air and the match began, Bryt immediately turning her attention to watching the two Bludgers—even though the team was starting to perform more like a team, Sloper was still practically dead weight as a member, leaving Bryt to work on her own.

It wasn't even a minute into the game when Ravenclaw and scored the first goal. Bryt groaned, taking a second to glance towards Ron, whose face was going red as the Slytherins started singing "Weasley is Our King" again. Bryt momentarily thought about how much trouble she'd get into if she 'accidentally' hit a Bludger into the Slytherin crowd.

_'Focus on the game,'_ Bryt reminded herself, turning back towards the Bludgers, flying off and smacking one with her bat when it was within feet of Katie. The Chaser flashed Bryt an appreciative grin as she passed on her way towards the Ravenclaw goals with the Quaffle under her arm.

Bryt didn't have to turn around a minute later, or listen to Lee's commentary, to know that Katie scored. The cheers of the Gryffindors in the stands was enough of a giveaway. A very small part of Bryt couldn't help but think that they might actually stand a chance this time—all Gryffindor had to do was keep the Quaffle away from the Ravenclaw Chasers, or Ginny manage to catch the Snitch early enough in the game.

Bryt risked a glance up at Ginny, who was circling overhead with Cho staying close behind. Bryt shook her head, turning her attention back to the Bludgers. It was the same tactic the Ravenclaw used in every other game. Cho couldn't even get herself to find the Snitch on her own. How did she manage to stay Seeker so long?

Bradley of Ravenclaw currently had the Quaffle and Bryt noticed a Bludger nearby, so she took her chance. She pushed forward on her broom, gripping her bat tightly in her left hand, took aim, and swung hard at the Bludger. The bat made contact with a loud crack and the black ball went flying straight for Bradley.

And missed him by nearly a foot. Bryt cursed under her breath, turning away and looking for the other Bludger, already knowing Bradley was on his way towards the goals that Ron protected.

Less than a minute later, the loudest uproar yet rushed through the crowd and Bryt spun on her broom when she noticed it was coming from the Gryffindor crowd.

"YES!" Bryt screamed, pumping her bat into the air in triumph. Ron had blocked the goal! Bryt felt like she could do laps around the pitch and Ron was obviously ecstatic himself, circling around the goals.

Bryt laughed, turning back on her broom, having to remind herself that no matter how great it was Ron was finally performing the way she always knew he could, they still were in the middle of the game.

Five minutes later, Ron saved a second goal. With it secure that his first block wasn't a lucky shot, the Gryffindor team seemed to have a renewed energy. There was a lot more cheering and whooping between them and, for the first time, they were truly acting more like a team than a group. Of course, Sloper still wasn't performing up to scratch, but that didn't keep them down. Especially after the Gryffindors in the stands had hijacked "Weasley Is Our King" halfway through the game and were singing their own version of it.

_Weasley is our King_

_Weasley is our King_

_He _never_ lets the Quaffle in_

_Weasley is our King!_

Ron kept saving one goal after another, each one causing the Gryffindors to grow louder and louder. For the first time, Bryt was truly enjoying being a Beater—it wasn't just frustrating shots but now pure glee at the looks on opponents' faces as they went into dives or gripped their brooms and did spiraling rolls to avoid being smacked with a Bludger Bryt had just aimed their way. This was a feeling Bryt loved, the feeling she expected when she first joined the Gryffindor team. Quidditch was finally enjoyable instead of just an obligation.

Bryt found herself both beside herself with excitement and also a bit disappointed when, about an hour later, Ginny caught the Snitch and secured Gryffindor's victory. With finally beginning to enjoy herself, Bryt wanted the match to last longer—a lot longer. But the match ending after an hour was welcomed with the fact that they won. Not only the match against Ravenclaw, but the Quidditch Cup as well.

"WE WON! WE WON!" Bryt screamed as she landed, jumped off the broom, and ran straight for Ron.

Ron was laughing as Bryt threw her arms around him and he lifted Bryt off her feet, spinning in circles. Bryt started laughing herself and once her feet were securely on the ground again, she pushed herself up and kissed Ron, ignoring the wolf whistles of the Gryffindor team as they piled up around them, slapping Ron on the back. Bryt couldn't stop grinning as she looked around, seeing everyone as happy as she was, knowing they had finally come together and pulled off a win—just at the right moment as well.

To make things even better was Cho and Umbridge. The second Cho had landed, she threw her broom to the ground and stomped off—probably pissed that Ginny had caught the Snitch when it was literally right in front of Cho's face. Then there was the look on Umbridge's face as she approached the team to had over the Quidditch Cup, making it obvious that she wanted to do anything but. This sent the team from ecstatic to through-the-roof once the Cup was in their hands. The Cup was passed around, but the second Ron had it, he was suddenly hoisted into the air by the Gryffindor team and practically the entire Gryffindor House grouped around them.

_Weasley is our King_

_Weasley is our King_

_He didn't let the Quaffle in_

_Weasley is our King!_

Bryt joined in with the singing, which grew louder the closer they got to the castle, literally bouncing along rather than walking, unable to stop grinning. They had won the Quidditch Cup! That morning, they had absolutely no hope of winning, which only made the victory so much sweeter. Bryt looked up at Ron, who was waving the Cup around and calling to someone nearby in the crowd—probably Harry and Hermione. She hadn't seen Ron this happy since the DA lesson after he conjured his Patronus—in fact, Bryt felt very similar herself. That happiness high that came with too much sugar or butterbeer. Bryt laughed, bouncing along with the crowd and singing as loudly as she could. There was no way this day could get any more perfect.


	40. OWL Exams

Like Bryt had expected, Ron's good mood lasted into the next day—and, truthfully, Bryt was still in a good mood herself. It was great to see Ron enjoying himself and finally have something he could brag about.

And that's what Ron was doing now as they were studying for exams under the shade of a tree by the lake. Bryt was enjoying herself, leaning up against Ron's side with her Transfiguration book propped up against her legs, as Ron gave yet another retelling of his first save of the game.

"We wouldn't have won without you, Ron," Bryt said, grinning up at him as he ran his hand through his hair.

"_We won_," Ron echoed, as if he were still having trouble believing it, then turned to Harry and Hermione, "Did you see the look on Chang's face when Ginny got the Snitch right out from under her nose?"

"I suppose she cried, did she?" Harry asked, a hard edge to his voice. Bryt stared at him, realizing he was still pretty bitter about the breakup.

"Didn't really see," Bryt said, "I didn't pay much attention after she chucked her broom."

"But you saw it, didn't you?" Ron asked, looking between Harry and Hermione.

"Well..." Hermione started, then sighed, "Actually, no. As a matter of fact, the only bit of the match Harry and I saw was Davis's first goal."

Bryt and Ron straightened up at the same time and Bryt stared at her friends in a mix of disbelief and disappointment. They finally had a good match, one where nothing went wrong, and Harry and Hermione hadn't even seen it?

"You...didn't watch?" Ron asked weakly, "You didn't see me make any of those saves?"

"Why'd you miss our final match?" Bryt asked.

"Because of Hagrid," Harry said, "He decided to tell us why he'd been covered in injuries ever since he got back from the giants. He wanted us to go into the forest with him, we had no choice, you know how he gets..."

"Why'd you have to go in the middle of the Quidditch match?" Ron asked irritably.

"Because he thought it'd be easier to slip away while everyone's distracted," Harry replied, "Hagrid took us into the forest to meet his half-brother Grawp—"

"Who happens to be a full-blooded giant," Hermione cut in, "Who Hagrid wants us to teach English and how to act civil if he ends up getting fired."

Bryt stared at Harry and Hermione with her mouth hanging open, hoping that one of them would say this was just a joke. Though the looks on their faces made it clear they were being serious. Bryt couldn't believe it. She was all for helping Hagrid with magical creatures—even when they were dangerous like the blast-ended skrewts from the year before—but she knew where to draw the line. Dragons and acromantulas were dangerous enough, but giants? What was Hagrid thinking?

"_He brought one back with him?_" Ron asked in disbelief.

"And Hagrid wants us to _teach him English_?" Bryt asked.

"Yeah," Harry said grimly.

"He's lost his mind."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "Yes, I'm starting to think he has. But, unfortunately, he made Harry and me promise."

"Well, you're just going to have to break your promise, that's all," Ron said, "I mean, come on...We've got exams and we're about this far—" Ron held his fingers very close together "—from being chucked out as it is. And anyway...remember Norbert? Remember Aragog? Have we ever come off better for mixing with any of Hagrid's monster mates?"

As much as Bryt didn't want to admit it, Ron had a point. The only good thing Bryt could say about whenever they got into helping Hagrid with dealing with any illegal animal was that they were still alive after the events.

"I know," Hermione said slowly, "It's just that...we promised."

"Well," Ron said with a sigh, "Hagrid hasn't been sacked yet, has he? He's hung on this long. Maybe he'll hang on till the end of the term and we won't have to go near Grawp at all."

"I hope you're right," Bryt said, staring off towards the forest.

**xxxxx**

The week leading up to their OWL exams was stressful enough, Bryt couldn't imagine what would happen when the exams actually began. When they weren't being lectured by the teachers in class reviews, they were dealing with students comparing study tips and schedules, Malfoy bragging about knowing the examiners—something Neville, of all people, discredited when he mentioned the woman never mentioned the Malfoys when visiting his grandmother—and a rash of situations where students were trying to sell each other things to 'heighten the brain' for chances of better grades.

Bryt and Hermione had made Harry and Ron very angry at one point when they interrupted a transaction, dumping the supposed 'Baruffio's Brain Elixir' down a sink. Hermione pointed out the potion was a fake while Bryt had to remind them that even if it were genuine, it'd be illegal to take for the exams anyway.

Bryt's nerves had her awake all night before the exams were to start. She was restless, but refused to get out of bed, clutching the pillow over her head in desperate attempts to get at least some sleep.

Surprisingly, Bryt wasn't at all tired when the next morning came. She was still too nervous and couldn't seem to stay still, wanting desperately to get her first exam over with. Bryt fidgeted all through breakfast, to the point that Hermione started snapping at Bryt that she was 'throwing off her concentration'.

The exams started right after breakfast, taking place in the Great Hall after the usual tables had been replaced by rows of desks. Bryt's nerves were at an all-time high as she sat down, waiting for her classmates to take their seats all around her and for the instructor to give them three words:

"You may begin."

With that, Bryt took a deep breath, gripped her bracelet in her right hand, and turned over her exam paper. She gripped her quill, staring down at the first question:

_a) Give the incantation, and_

_b) Describe the wand movement required to make objects fly._

Bryt's nerves started to subside a bit at that as she grinned and put her quill to parchment, writing fast. She was starting to feel a bit more confident about this exam.

The Charms practical exam seemed to go just as well as the written for Bryt. She knew she wouldn't have received perfect marks, but she was very confident that she passed.

Unfortunately, Bryt's luck ended there as the next day was Transfiguration. Bryt was sure she had made wild guesses on at least half of the questions in the written exam and had indents on the palm of her right hand from gripping her bracelet so tightly over the whole thing. When the practical came, Bryt was supposed to vanish a frog but all she had managed was to make one of its legs slightly transparent. As sure as she was about passing her Charms exam, she was just as sure that she had failed Transfiguration. At least it was one class she didn't need to join MCRS.

Wednesday brought Herbology, while Thursday was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Bryt was sure she scraped a pass in both of them—and hoped she managed an Exceeds Expectations in Defense Against the Dark Arts after all the practices with the DA.

Friday brought with it a break for Bryt, Harry, and Ron. They had no exam that day, but Hermione had Ancient Runes. Considering they had the whole weekend ahead of them, Bryt, Harry, and Ron decided to take Friday off. Bryt spent most all day nestled up against Ron in the playing wizard chess against Harry while Ron occasionally made odd noises when Bryt made a bad move.

Hermione finally came back to the common room a while after lunch, seeming in a bad mood as she dropped her bag and glared at the chess board before sitting down.

"How were the runes?" Ron asked lazily.

"I mistranslated 'ehwaz'," Hermione said sharply, as angry as when she and Bryt had found out about the house elves at Hogwarts, "It means 'partnership', not 'defense', I mixed it up with 'eihwaz'."

"Anyone would have missed that," Bryt said, "An easy mistake."

"It could be the one mistake that makes the difference between a pass and fail!" Hermione said—and Bryt, though she didn't dare say it, knew that the world would end before Hermione failed any exam, "And what's more, someone's put another niffler in Umbridge's office, I don't know how they got it through that new door, but I just walked past there and Umbridge is shrieking her head off—by the sound of it, it tried to take a chunk out of her leg—"

"Poor niffler. He's never going to get that taste out of his mouth," Bryt said, causing both Harry and Ron to laugh. Hermione glared at them.

"It isn't funny!" she said, "She thinks it's Hagrid doing it, remember? And we do _not_ want Hagrid chucked out!"

Bryt's good mood disappeared and she was suddenly feeling a bit horrible. She forgot about what animal trouble for Umbridge would mean for Hagrid.

"He's teaching at the moment," Harry said, pointing out the window where Hagrid was clearly visible among a mass of students near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, "She can't blame him."

"Umbridge doesn't look for proof, remember?" Bryt said sourly.

That news put a damper on all their moods, though they didn't have much time to think on it as the next day brought them back into studying—this time for their Potions exam on Monday. The four talked very little—aside from Ron and Harry occasionally asking Bryt questions because Hermione was so absorbed in her work she didn't seem to hear when they asked her.

Potions exam was definitely the exam Bryt was least worried about. As she left the exam Monday afternoon, she didn't have any doubt that she would have managed an Outstanding in that class. Bryt was equally as confident in her Care of Magical Creatures class, though her confidence faded yet again on Wednesday with the written Astronomy exam and their Divination exam. If it weren't for the fact that Bryt knew she'd never hear the end of it from both Hermione and McGonagall, Bryt would have skipped her Divination exam all together. So she sat there, making up stuff off the top of her head, wishing they had asked her things that Firenze had taught them instead.

"Well, we always were going to fail that one," Ron said after finally leaving that exam.

"And now we can finally be rid of it," Bryt added.

"No more pretending we care what happens when Jupiter and Uranus get too friendly," Harry said.

"And from now on," Ron added, "I don't care if my leaves spell _die, Ron, die_. I'm chucking them into the bin where they belong."

Bryt and Harry both laughed, Bryt feeling better about her horrible performance. Just then, Hermione came up to them, just finishing her Arithmancy exam and already talking to them about pushing in last-minute star chart studying before their practical Astronomy exam that night.

Luckily, that night proved to be ideal for stargazing. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, plenty of moonlight to see by, and no wind to blow around their parchment. Bryt went to work immediately, trying to remember everything she had learned over the past five years. It wasn't long before she was completely absorbed into the work.

Just as Bryt was trying to find the right star in the sky nearly two hours later, a loud roar echoed through the grounds. Startled, Bryt jerked, causing the telescope to ram into her eye. Bryt jerked back, cursing loudly as she held a hand over her eye, squeezing both eyes shut against the pain.

"Try to concentrate, now, boys and girls," Tofty, their examiner, said sharply and most everyone turned back to their work. Bryt, with her hand still over her eye, was now looking towards the castle grounds, wondering where the noise had come from.

"Twenty minutes to go," Tofty said, pulling Bryt back to her work, glad that the pain in her eye was starting to subside some—though she wouldn't be surprised if she woke up with a black eye the next day.

Bryt had just picked up her quill again when a loud bang echoed through the grounds. She looked up again and realized where the noise from before had come from. Bryt stood, frozen, her heart pounding wildly as she noticed Hagrid at his hut, surrounded by a half-dozen others, all of whom seemed to be aiming Stunning spells at him. Hermione let out a cry, only to be scolded by their examiner, though no one seemed to be paying any attention to him. Everyone was now staring down at the castle grounds.

_'Oh God...'_ Bryt thought, staring transfixed as Hagrid literally threw a man across the grounds after a misaimed spell hit Fang. She had been on the receiving end of Stunning spells before during practices in the DA so she knew Fang would be okay, but she had never seen Hagrid get so angry before—not even the time he caught Bryt and the others sneaking down to his cabin in their third year when they thought Sirius was a madman out to kill Harry.

"How dare you!" a new voice came and Bryt instantly recognized it as McGonagall's, confirmed a second later as they saw her rushing across the grounds towards the commotion, "How dare you! Leave him alone! On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such—"

Several people screamed and Bryt wanted to, but she couldn't. A cold feeling ran through her as she stared, horrified, as several different Stunning spells hit McGonagall at the same time, sending her crumpling to the ground. Bryt couldn't move, couldn't think. She could barely comprehend what was happening—from Hagrid going into a rage, charging at the wizards around him to him hoisting Fang onto his back and disappearing off in the distance with Umbridge screaming in frustration at the remaining-conscious men to follow.

Several minutes of silence followed after that in which Bryt slowly tried to wrap her mind around what had happened. Hagrid was gone. McGonagall had taken several Stunning spells to the chest—nothing good could come from that, especially at her age. Bryt barely heard their examiner reminding them they had five minutes left, though she didn't go back to her exam. She just stood there, staring at her parchment until the time was up and she packed away quickly, rushing down the stairs to catch up with her friends, though she lagged behind them once she did catch up.

"That evil woman!" Hermione said angrily, "Trying to sneak up on Hagrid in the dead of night!"

"She clearly wanted to avoid another scene like Trelawney's," Ernie said as he came up beside them. Bryt silently agreed, but also knew Umbridge hadn't gotten that wish.

"Hagrid did well, didn't he?" Ron asked, sounding a mix of impressed and worried, "How come all those spells bounced off him?"

_'Giant blood,'_ Bryt thought, but she didn't say so out loud. Hermione, however, did bring it up.

"It's very hard to Stun a giant," Hermione added, "They're like trolls, really tough...But poor Professor McGonagall...Four Stunners straight to the chest, and she's not exactly young, is she?"

Again, Bryt felt a wave of sickening cold and she swallowed hard, gripping her bracelet tightly in her hands as Ernie headed off for the Hufflepuff common room.

"At least they didn't get to take Hagrid to Azkaban," Ron said, "I 'spect he's gone to join Dumbledore, hasn't he?"

"I suppose so," Hermione said weakly, "Oh, this is awful, I really thought Dumbledore would be back before long, but now we've lost Hagrid too..."

They fell silent and Bryt noticed Ron had slowed down his pace, coming up beside her and staring at her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking worried, "You're not usually this...quiet."

Bryt looked at Ron and nodded slightly, wrapping one of her hands around his.

"Just worried about Hagrid and Professor McGonagall," she said weakly as they reached the common room. Ron didn't have a chance to say anything as the common room was full of noise from everyone talking about what had happened on the castle grounds. Bryt and her friends sat down—Bryt leaning against her boyfriend—just as Seamus and Dean had finished telling a group around them what they had seen from the Astronomy tower.

"But why sack Hagrid now?" Angelina asked, "It's not like Trelawney, he's been teaching much better than usual this year!"

"Umbridge hates part-humans," Hermione said, the bitterness clear in her tone, "She was always going to try and get Hagrid out."

"And she thought Hagrid was putting nifflers in her office," Katie added.

"Oh blimey," Lee groaned, "It's me's been putting the nifflers in her office, Fred and George left me a couple, I've been levitating them in through her window..."

"It's not your fault," Bryt said weakly, "Umbridge has been looking for any reason to get rid of Hagrid, she would have made up something even without the nifflers."

"That's true," Harry said, sighing.

"I just hope McGonagall's all right," Lavender said weakly, looking on the verge of tears. Bryt couldn't blame her.

"We saw some people carrying her back up to the castle," Mike said from where he stood between Dennis and Natalie—in any other situation, Bryt would have found it amusing that the two boys were standing next to each other without Mike having any problems.

"She didn't look very well..." Colin added from nearby, frowning.

"Madam Pomfrey will sort her out," Alicia said confidently—Bryt wished she could believe it as well, "She's never failed yet."

It wasn't long after that when people slowly started heading back up to bed. Bryt wrote in her diary about what happened, then lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to will herself to sleep. Still, with her mind racing, it wasn't until nearly six in the morning before she finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep plagued with nightmares of what had happened on the castle grounds.


	41. End of Exams

Bryt woke up the next morning feeling more tired than when she had gone to bed. What was worse was Parvati and Lavender kept staring at her as she fought to get her watch snapped around her wrist. Neither of them would say why—though one probably would have if Bryt hadn't snapped at them earlier that morning(she hadn't meant to, but lack of sleep did that to her). Bryt, annoyed, left the room without even saying anything to Hermione—who had her back to everyone and was fighting with brushing tangles from her bushy hair.

Once in the common room, Bryt immediately made her way to Harry and Ron, both of whom stared at her and she distinctly heard Ron mutter something that sounded like 'bloody hell'.

"_What?_" Bryt snapped, feeling even more irritated now from the mixture of stares and lack of sleep.

"Nothing," both boys said together and Bryt glared at them, but neither seemed willing to share what was going on.

Bryt sighed, heading past them to head down to breakfast, her stomach growling. Harry and Ron followed behind, starting to talk about if the plan was still on for the three of them to head out to the Quidditch pitch tomorrow to celebrate the end of their exams—with Harry's Firebolt still in Umbridge's custody, Bryt was planning to share her broom with Harry, the two of them taking turns. Bryt was glad for something to talk about and joined in, eager for their last exam, History of Magic—which took place that afternoon—to be done and over with. One more exam and they'd be free for the summer.

While they talked, Bryt noticed Ron still gave her weird looks but she bit her tongue, knowing if it was anything serious the others would tell her. Maybe Ron was still put off by the quiet mood Bryt was in the night before.

"There you are," Hermione said as she sat down with them when they were halfway through breakfast, "I really think we should get some more stud—oh my..._Bryt_!"

"Okay, that's it," Bryt hissed as Hermione dropped her knife, staring at Bryt in pity, "Will someone please tell me why the hell everyone keeps staring at me?"

"It's just..." Hermione said slowly, "Well...Do you have a mirror on you?"

Bryt raised an eyebrow at Hermione and she went pink.

"Of course you don't," she said, realizing what a stupid question it was. She looked around, then took the water pitcher nearby and pushed it towards Bryt, "Just look."

Bryt rolled her eyes, then picked up the pitcher and stared at her reflection, instantly realizing what the problem was. Her right eye had a dark, ugly bruise around it and Bryt couldn't blame others for staring. It looked nasty, which would explain why her eye had hurt when she woke up that morning. At first, Bryt wondered where the bruise had come from but then she remembered hitting herself in the eye with her telescope the night before. She wasn't surprised at having a black eye now. Bryt sighed, putting the pitcher down.

"I figured this would happen," she said, picking up her toast again, "It's no big deal." Bryt looked between Harry and Ron. "And next time, just tell me, okay?"

Both boys got sheepish looks before turning their attention to their food.

After breakfast, Bryt longed to go take a good nap before the exam that afternoon but she instead spent the morning in the library, cramming her brain with any information she could from their past five years of History of Magic. They stayed until halfway through lunch before hurrying to the Great Hall and eating as quickly as possible.

When time for the exam came, Bryt found herself feeling a mixture of eagerness and dread. She wasn't sure how well she'd do in History of Magic, but at the same time, it was their final exam. In a few short hours, they'd be free from their classes. Nothing more to worry about until they got their results during the summer.

The exam started as any other written exam, with Bryt gripping her bracelet in her right hand as she tried to remember all the cramming she'd done to answer the questions on the parchment in front of her. She found herself guessing on quite a few of them, but not nearly as many as she did in Transfiguration. All she could hope for was hope she at least scraped by with an Acceptable.

Bryt lost track of time and the next time she glanced at her watch, she realized only five minutes left. Bryt felt a pang of panic, realizing she still had a good fourth of her exam unanswered. She bent over the parchment, willing herself to write faster when she heard someone scream further ahead in the room. Bryt jerked her head up and stared, worry gripping through her as she realized the scream had come from Harry, who was on the floor, gripping his head. Bryt spun in her chair to look at Ron behind her, seeing his expression mirroring hers. They both turned back to Harry, who was now being helped to his feet and hurried from the room by Tofty while another examiner started ordering everyone to return to their exams.

Bryt couldn't concentrate, though. She bounced her foot impatiently, playing with her bracelet in her hands as she stared at her unfinished exam. All she could think about was Harry and what it was that happened to him.

The second the bell rang, Bryt and Ron hurried towards the door, quickly met up by Hermione. Without even saying anything, the three started running up the stairs, not really sure where they were going to find Harry. Luckily, they didn't have to look. The second they reached the top of the marble staircase, Harry came running towards them, his face pale.

"Harry! What happened?" Hermione asked anxiously, "Are you all right? Are you ill?"

"Did you go up to the hospital wing?" Bryt asked, "You didn't look well at all in the Great Hall..."

"Come with me," Harry said, ignoring their questions as he started to usher them towards the nearest empty classroom, "Come on, I've got to tell you something..."

Something in Harry's tone got Bryt even more worried. Whatever it was he had to say, she knew it wasn't going to be anything good. Bryt, Hermione, and Ron quickly came into the room after Harry, who closed the door and leaned against it once he was sure the coast was clear.

"Voldemort's got Sirius."

"_What?_" Bryt, Hermione, and Ron chorused, Bryt feeling the same cold wave of fear she got the night before when she saw McGonagall get hit with the Stunning spells.

"Saw it," Harry went on, "Just now. When I fell asleep in the exam."

Bryt gripped tightly to Ron's arm with both hands, afraid her legs would give out from under her if she let go. Hermione and Ron were both white-faced and Bryt was sure she was as well. Voldemort had Sirius? How could he manage that? Sirius was at Grimmauld Place all the time—not to mention it was mid-afternoon. Someone would have surely seen them, shouldn't they?

"But—but where? How?" Hermione asked weakly.

"I dunno how," Harry said, starting to pace, "But I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they're at the end of row ninety-seven...He's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there...He's torturing him...Says he'll end by killing him..."

Bryt stood frozen on the spot, still gripping Ron's arm. She stared at Harry, her mind going numb. This couldn't be real. It just couldn't be. Sirius was supposed to be safely at Grimmauld Place. There was no way Voldemort could get to him there, wasn't there? She just couldn't believe this.

"How're we going to get there?" Harry asked.

"Get there?" Ron and Bryt echoed weakly.

"Get to the Department of Mysteries so we can rescue Sirius!"

"But—Harry..." Ron said slowly.

"What?"

Ron opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Bryt knew the feeling. She couldn't think of anything to say, anything to do. What were they supposed to do?

"Harry," Hermione spoke up gently, "How...How did Voldemort get into the Ministry of Magic without anybody realizing he was there?"

Bryt was wondering the same thing. Again, she realized that someone had to have seen something. She felt the fear subsiding a bit. Maybe Harry's dream had been just that this time—a dream. No vision from inside Voldemort's head.

_'God, I hope so,'_ Bryt thought, gripping tightly to that small flicker. She didn't want to think about the other possibilities.

"How should I know?" Harry asked sharply, obviously losing his temper, "The question is how _we're_ going to get in there!"

"But...Harry, think about this. It's five o'clock in the afternoon...The Ministry of Magic must be full of workers...How would Voldemort and Sirius have got in without being seen? Harry...They're probably the two most wanted wizards in the world...You think they could get into a building full of Aurors undetected?"

"I dunno, Voldemort used an Invisibility Cloak or something!" Harry yelled, "Anyway, the Department of Mysteries has always been completely empty whenever I've been—"

"You've never been there, Harry," Hermione cut in, though she didn't sound cross, "You've dreamed about the place, that's all."

"They're not normal dreams!" Harry screamed, now very close to Hermione. Bryt acted without thinking, moving forward and stepping between the two, but Harry didn't seem to notice as he kept yelling, "How d'you explain Ron's dad, then, what was all that about, how come I knew what happened to him?"

"He's got a point," Ron said quietly.

"He does," Bryt admitted, not moving from where she stood between Hermione and Harry, "But how did Voldemort get Sirius in the first place? There's no way he could get into Grimmauld Place."

"Sirius might've cracked and just wanted some fresh air," Ron said and Bryt had a sinking feeling in her stomach as she finally looked away from Harry, turning to Ron, knowing he had a very good point, "He's been desperate to get out of that house for ages—"

"But why on earth would Voldemort want to use _Sirius_ to get the weapon, or whatever the thing is?" Hermione asked and, once again, Bryt's mind started to change. There were so many valid points on both sides of the argument and Bryt had no idea what to think.

"I dunno," Harry admitted, though he was still yelling and Bryt turned back to him, wishing he'd stop screaming at them, "There could be loads of reasons! Maybe Sirius is just someone Voldemort doesn't care about seeing hurt—"

"I doubt he'd care 'bout seein' _anyone_ hurt," Bryt cut in sharply.

"You know what, I just thought of something," Ron said, stepping forward, "Sirius's brother was a Death Eater, wasn't he? Maybe he told Sirius the secret of how to get the weapon!"

"Why would he?" Bryt asked when Harry opened his mouth—she really didn't want to listen to him yell at them again, "They hated each other, remember? Why would he tell Sirius anything? Besides, if he did know how to get the weapon, why not tell Voldemort? He was a Death Eater, after all."

"Look," Hermione said, sounding irritated for the first time, "We've got no proof of any of this, no proof Voldemort and Sirius are even there—"

"Hermione, Harry's seen them!" Ron said, obviously believing Harry fully now.

"Okay," Hermione said weakly from behind Bryt, "I've just got to say this..."

"What?"

"You...This isn't criticism, Harry! But you do...sort of...I mean—don't you think you've got a—a _saving-people-thing_?"

Harry glared over Bryt's head at Hermione and Bryt tensed, fearing that he would blow up at them again. For the first time since the summer, Bryt felt the urge to smack Harry. She knew he was worried about Sirius—she was as well—but she also wanted him to listen to reason. Even if he was right about Sirius, rushing blindly into something was an incredibly stupid thing to do—they should have learned that, if anything, during their first year at Hogwarts alone.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Harry snapped, "A 'saving-people-thing'?"

"Just what she said," Bryt spoke up, "You have a habit of rushing into things without thinking, doing things when you don't need to. Like saving Fleur Delacour's sister in the second task last year."

Harry's glare moved to Bryt and she just stared back, determined not to back down now.

"Don't get me wrong, it was great to do, Harry," Bryt said, about to go on, but Harry cut her off.

"That's funny," he said bitterly, "Because I definitely remember Ron saying I'd wasted time _acting the hero_." Harry added a sarcastic tone to the last three words that made Bryt tense, her urge to knock some sense into Harry growing, "Is that what you think this is? You reckon I want to act the hero again?"

"That's not what we mean at all!" Hermione said, her voice rising slightly in panic.

"Well, spit out what you're going to say, because we're wasting time here!"

"I'm trying to say—Voldemort knows you, Harry!" Hermione said, her voice more steady now, "He took Ginny down into the Chamber of Secrets to lure you there, it's the kind of thing he does, he knows you're the—the sort of person who'd go to Sirius's aid! What if he's trying to lure you into the Department of Mys—"

"Hermione, it doesn't matter if he's done it to get me there or not—they've taken McGonagall to St. Mungo's, there isn't anyone left from the Order at Hogwarts who we can tell, and if we don't go, Sirius is dead!"

"But he can't just rush in without thinking!" Bryt said, knowing Harry was right. She realized now that they didn't have any choice in the matter. It didn't matter if it was a trap. They had to help Sirius. "It won't help Sirius at all if we run blindly and get ourselves killed as well!"

Harry looked like he was about to start yelling again, but the classroom door opened and they all spun around to see Ginny and Luna coming in.

"We recognized Harry's voice," Ginny said, "What are you yelling about?"

"Never you mind," Harry snapped and Bryt glared at him.

"There's no need to take that tone with me," Ginny said, sounding eerily like her mother when she was scolding the Weasley children, "I was only wondering whether I could help."

"Well, you can't."

"You're being rather rude, you know," Luna said and, despite everything, Bryt gave a short laugh. Harry didn't seem to find it nearly as funny as he cursed under his breath before turning away from them.

"Wait..." Hermione said, straightening up, "Wait...Harry, they _can_ help."

Bryt spun around to Hermione, confused. Didn't she just moments ago think they shouldn't be doing anything?

"Listen," Hermione went on, "Harry, we need to establish whether Sirius really has left the headquarters—"

"I've told you, I saw—"

"Harry, I'm begging you, please! Please let's check that Sirius isn't at home before we go charging off to London—if we find out he's not there then I swear I won't try and stop you, I'll come, I'll do whatever it takes to save him—"

"Sirius is being tortured now!" Harry shouted, "We haven't got time to waste—"

"Hermione has a point, though," Bryt cut in, "If this is a trap, we have to be sure we're really saving Sirius before we go walking into it."

"And how're we going to check?" Harry asked sharply.

Bryt frowned, not having an answer to that. Hermione seemed to have already planned everything out, however, because she was quick with her answer.

"We'll have to use Umbridge's fire and see if we can contact him," she said, her face pale, "We'll draw Umbridge away again, but we'll need lookouts, and that's where we can use Ginny and Luna."

"Yeah, we'll do it," Ginny said, though the look on her face made it clear she had no clue what was going on.

"When you say 'Sirius', are you talking about Stubby Boardman?" Luna asked and Bryt gave her a weird look, wondering who she was talking about.

"Okay," Harry said, obviously deciding to ignore Luna, "If you can think of a way to do this quickly, I'm with you, otherwise I'm going to the Department of Mysteries right now—"

"The Department of Mysteries?" Luna asked, "But how are you going to get there?"

"Right..." Hermione spoke up when Harry didn't answer Luna, "Well...One of us has to go and find Umbridge and—and send her off in the wrong direction, keep her away from her office. They could tell her—I don't know—that Peeves is up to something awful as usual..."

"I'll do it," Ron said, jumping at the chance, "I'll tell her Peeves is smashing up the Transfiguration department or something, it's miles away from her office. Come to think of it, I could probably persuade Peeves to do it if I met him on the way..."

"Okay," Hermione said and Bryt stared in shock over how willing Hermione was to go along with that suggestion, "Now, we need to keep students away from her office while we force entry, or some Slytherin's bound to go and tip her off..."

"Luna and I can stand at either end of the corridor," Ginny spoke up quickly, "And warn people not to go down there because someone's let off a load of Garroting Gas."

Everyone just stared at Ginny and Bryt couldn't help but be suspicious about how quickly she had come up with that plan.

"Fred and George were planning to do it before they left," Ginny said with a shrug.

"I'll stand with Luna," Bryt offered, "It'll probably help convince students we're telling the truth if I'm there with her. Er, no offense, Luna."

"None taken," Luna said in a tone that made Bryt wonder if she'd even heard what she had said.

"Okay," Hermione said with a nod, "Well, then, Harry, you and I will be under the Invisibility Cloak, and we'll sneak into the office and you can talk to Sirius—"

"He's not there, Hermione!"

"I mean you can—can check whether Sirius is home or not while I keep watch, I don't think you should be in there alone, Lee's already proved the window's a weak spot, sending those nifflers through it. And even if we do all that, I don't think we can bank on more than five minutes. Not with Filch and the wretched Inquisitorial Squad floating around."

"Five minutes will be enough," Harry said, obviously pleased with the plan, "C'mon, let's go—"

"Now?" Hermione asked, taken aback.

"Of course now!" Harry said loudly, "What did you think, we're going to wait until after dinner or something? Hermione, Sirius is being tortured _right now_!"

"We can't wait on something like this," Bryt said.

"Oh, all right," Hermione said, turning to Harry, "You go and get the Invisibility Cloak and we'll meet you at the end of Umbridge's corridor, okay?"

Harry rushed out of the room without another word and Bryt sighed as she started out with her friends, hoping and praying that their plan would work—and that Sirius was safely at home at Grimmauld Place.


	42. Captured

Bryt and Luna only had to send off students a couple of times. Afterwards, it seemed as if the word was spreading because no one else was coming towards them. Bryt checked her watch, wondering how much longer Harry was going to be in Umbridge's office. She looked down the hallway, squinting her gaze at the door to watch for any sign of Harry coming out.

Something suddenly circled around Bryt's neck, jerking her backwards. Panic and instinct kicked in and Bryt jerked her arm back to elbow whoever it was behind her and she heard someone grunt, but the grip around her neck didn't loosen. Bryt lashed back again only to have her arm pinned behind her back. Before she could lash out with her right, that arm was pinned as well. Bryt cursed loudly, but now that her head was free, she jerked it back, but only hit the chest of the person behind her.

"Be still, you filthy mudblood."

Bryt cursed again as she recognized Parkinson's voice behind her and she just struggled more. That was the last thing she needed, some annoying Slytherin girl pinning her arms behind her back. Worse yet, before Bryt could say anything, a gag was pulled over her mouth. She glared in front of her at the Slytherin she didn't know the name of, then glanced over and noticed another Slytherin had Luna trapped and gagged as well.

_'This is not good,'_ Bryt thought, her heart pounding.

"You're finally going to get what's coming to you, mudblood," Parkinson sneered and Bryt wished she were taller so she could headbutt the girl, maybe give her a bloody nose. She knew she was going to be expelled, but getting one last good hit, messing up Parkinson's already pug-like face would be well worth it.

Parkinson gave Bryt a hard shove, but she stubbornly planted her feet. She might have lost, but she was definitely going to make that loss as painful as possible for the winners.

"Move," Parkinson snapped, shoving at Bryt again, but again she dug her heels into the stone floor.

"I said move!"

Bryt felt a sharp pain in the back of her legs and her knees forced to bend, causing her to stumble forward. Parkinson laughed and Bryt glared in front of her. Ignoring the pain from Parkinson's kick, Bryt started forward, glancing to Luna, who was struggling against the Slytherin who had captured her.

As they neared Umbridge's office, Bryt saw Ginny wasn't the only one who'd been captured as well—Ron was also gagged and held in an arm lock, and, to Bryt's surprise, Crabbe had Neville in a headlock. All Bryt could do was wonder what Neville was doing here.

They were all shoved roughly into the office where Umbridge stood, a hand on the back of Harry's head and pinning him to the desk. Bryt saw Hermione pinned to the wall by Bulstrode and Malfoy stood nearby, tossing Harry's wand into the air and catching it again. Bryt bit down on her gag, fury building up in her even more. She yanked against Parkinson, but the girl had a surprisingly strong grip. Again, she wished she were taller so she could give the girl a good headbutt and hopefully broken nose.

"Got 'em all," said the Slytherin gripping Ron as he shoved Ron forward so hard that Ron nearly fell. Bryt jerked forward in Parkinson's grip, wanting nothing more than to rush over and slug the Slytherin in front of her. He didn't seem to notice as he went on, motioning towards Neville, "_That_ one tried to stop us from taking _her_," he motioned towards Ginny at that, "So I brought him along too."

"Good, good," Umbridge said with a smile that made Bryt's blood boil more, "Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn't it?"

Malfoy laughed and Bryt wished she were close enough to him to give him a good kick.

"So, Potter," Umbridge said, sitting down at her desk, "You stationed lookouts around my office and you sent this buffoon—" Umbridge motioned to Ron and Bryt longed to lash out at her for that insult, "—to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes, Mr. Filch having just informed me so."

Bryt muttered a curse through her gag and received a sharp jab in the back. Bryt bit down, determined not to give Parkinson the satisfaction of getting a reaction from her.

"Clearly it was very important for you to talk to somebody," Umbridge went on, staring at Harry, "Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she's still too ill to talk to anyone..."

The Slytherins laughed and Bryt glared. Not caring about the consequences, she kicked out at the nearest Slytherin, then bit back a cry as Parkinson twisted her arm to a very painful angle. Ron made an odd noise through his gag nearby and jerked forward, but the Slytherin behind him kept a tight grip. Bryt caught Ron's eye and saw it was clear on his face he wanted nothing more than to go after Parkinson at the moment. Umbridge looked absolutely beside herself with glee at their struggling.

"It's none of your business who I talk to," Harry said, his tone defiant, though Bryt could see him shaking from anger.

"Very well," Umbridge said with that sickeningly sweet smile that Bryt hated so much, "Very well, Mr. Potter...I offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you. Draco—fetch Professor Snape."

Bryt stared at Harry and realized he had suddenly remembered the same thing she did. Snape was a member of the Order. There was still someone they could tell. They might not trust Snape, but Dumbledore obviously did—this could be their last chance.

Malfoy left the room, leaving them in silence while they struggled against the Slytherins who had them trapped. Bryt wished desperately that her hand was free so she could get to her wand in her pocket, despite the fact it'd do little good with a gag in her mouth or with Umbridge sitting nearby. She was going to be expelled, she knew that. That didn't mean she still didn't want to give them a hell of a fight.

It wasn't long before Malfoy returned, Snape right behind him. He looked around the room, but gave no sign that he thought anything was unusual about six students being held in arm locks or headlocks in a teacher's office. Bryt couldn't help but wonder if they even could trust Snape with what was going on. He may be a member of the Order, but he hated Sirius. Plus, Bryt still doubted if he truly was on their side.

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" Snape asked.

"Ah, Professor Snape," Umbridge said sweetly as she stood up, "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

"You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter," Snape said coolly, "Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient."

The look on Umbridge's face made it clear that she did use the entire bottle.

"You can make some more, can't you?" Umbridge asked in a tone that made it clear that she was trying to sweet-talk someone into doing what she wanted, even though she was very angry.

_'If you want to wait a month,'_ Bryt thought, grinning through her gag.

"Certainly," Snape said, "It takes a full mon cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month."

"A month?" Umbridge asked, bringing herself to her full height and looking extremely annoyed, "A _month_? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"

"Really?" Snape asked, looking towards Harry, who stared right back, "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow the rules."

"I wish to interrogate him!" Umbridge practically shouted, "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truh!"

I have already told you that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter—and I assure you I have the greatest sympathy with you if you did—I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling..."

Bryt glared. She had no doubt that Umbridge really would poison a student. Especially Harry.

"You're on probation!" Umbridge yelled, "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"

Snape turned, staring for the door and Bryt stared after him. She might not trust him, but he was their only chance and now he was walking out the door before they could warn him.

"He's got Padfoot!" Harry suddenly shouted, "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

Snape stopped suddenly at the door and turned to stare at Harry, but his expression was unreadable. Bryt had no idea if he understood Harry's message, she could only pray he did.

"Padfoot?" Umbridge asked, looking delighted, "What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

"I have no idea," Snape replied, "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage." Snape started to leave again, but stopped and looked over at Crabbe. "And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job."

_'Like anyone'd hire Crabbe,'_ Bryt thought, glaring at Snape as he left the room.

"Very well," Umbridge said, her face red with frustration as she took out her wand, "Very well...I am left with no alternative...This is more than a matter of school discipline...This is an issue of Ministry security...Yes..."

Bryt's heart started pounding and she grew still, staring at Umbridge. She didn't like the tone Umbridge was using, or the fact that she was gripping her wand tightly. Whatever was about to happen, it couldn't be any good.

"You are forcing me, Potter...I do not want to," Umbridge went on, "But sometimes circumstances justify the use...I am sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice...The Cruciatus Curse out to loosen your tongue."

"_FHUH?_" Bryt yelled through her gag, horrified, unable to move.

"The Minister wouldn't want you to break the Law!" Hermione cried out, her face pale.

"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," Umbridge shot back, her wand out and moving between aiming at different parts of Harry's body. Bryt followed its every move—arm...legs...chest...head...stomach...

"He never knew I ordered dementors after Potter last summer," Umbridge went on—legs again, then to the left shoulder, "But he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same..."

"It was _you_?" Harry stared at Umbridge, "_You_ send the dementors after me?"

"_Somebody_ had to act," Umbridge said, her wand now aimed at Harry's forehead, though this time she didn't move it away and Bryt's heart started pounding harder, "They were all bleating about silencing you somehow—discrediting you—but I was the one who actually _did_ something about it...Only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today, though, not now..."

Bryt stared, horrified and transfixed at the same time, as Umbridge took a deep breath and opened her mouth—

"No! No—Harry—Harry we'll have to tell her!"

If Bryt wasn't being held tightly in Parkinson's grip, she probably would have fallen over. She looked over at Hermione, horrified in a completely different way now. After all they'd been through the past five years—after all they put up with from Umbridge in this past year alone—she was caving now? Bryt couldn't believe it. Hermione, the girl she felt closer to than anyone. The one she trusted with things she didn't dare tell anyone else. Her best friend. And now she was going tell Umbridge everything?

Hermione was crying now and Bulstrode jumped away, looking disgusted, but Hermione kept her face hidden in her hands. Bryt still couldn't believe it. Everything they've done couldn't come to an end here. Not like this.

"I'm—I'm sorry everyone," Hermione said weakly, "But—I can't stand it—"

"That's right, that's right, girl!" Umbridge said excitedly, rushing towards Hermione and pushing her down into a chair, "Now then...with whom was Potter communicating just now?"

"Well, well, he was _trying_ to speak to Professor Dumbledore..."

Bryt felt a wave of relief and a bit of guilt. She should have known Hermione, wonderful Hermione, wasn't going to tell Umbridge anything. She was up to something. Some plan.

_'You're the best,'_ Bryt thought, fighting hard not to let the relief show on her face—not that it'd matter. Everyone was staring at Hermione at the moment.

"Dumbledore?" Umbridge said eagerly, leaning forward, "You know where Dumbledore is, then?"

"Well, no!" Hermione said through tears—though Bryt now knew they had to be fake, "We've tried the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley and the Three Broomsticks and even the Hog's Head—"

"Idiot girl, Dumbledore won't be sitting in a pub when the whole Ministry's looking for him!"

"But—but we needed to tell him something important!" Hermione said with a wailing cry, her hands still hiding her face. Even without the tears, she was very convincing. Was this really the same girl Bryt always saw through immediately and constantly told she was a bad liar?

"Yes?" Umbridge asked, looking almost beside herself with excitement, "What was it you wanted to tell him?"

"We...We wanted to tell him it's r-ready!"

"What's ready? What's ready, girl?"

"The...the weapon," Hermione managed, doing a lot better at ignoring the fact Umbridge was shaking her than Bryt would have.

"Weapon? Weapon?" Umbridge asked, her eyes bulging. Bryt couldn't help but think the woman had never looked so similar to a toad than she did right now. "You have been developing some method of resistance? A weapon you could use against the Ministry? On Professor Dumbledore's orders, of course?"

"Y-y-yes," Hermione said, sounding very much like she was speaking through tears, "But he had to leave before it was finished and n-n-now we've finished it for him, and we c-c-can't find him t-t-to tell him!"

"What kind of weapon is it?" Umbridge demanded, still gripping Hermione by the shoulders. Bryt longed to hit the woman to get her away from her friend, but knew she couldn't even if she wasn't being held back. She'd ruin whatever plan Hermione was going with at the moment.

"We don't r-r-really understand it," Hermione said weakly, "We j-j-just did what P-P-Professor Dumbledore told us t-t-to do..."

Umbridge was quiet for a moment, then let go of Hermione and stood up.

"Take me to the weapon."

"I'm not showing _them_," Hermione said in a false-horrified voice, barely moving her hands enough to look around at the Slytherins in the room.

"It is not for you to set conditions," Umbridge snapped.

"Fine," Hermione said, rehiding her face and giving more false crying, "Fine. Let them see it, I hope they use it on you! In fact, I wish you'd invite loads and loads of people to come and see! Th-that would serve you right—oh, I'd love it if the wh-whole school knew where it was, and how to u-use it, and then if you annoy any of them they'll be able to s-sort you out!"

_'Hermione, you are absolutely brilliant,'_ Bryt thought, completely pleased by the look on Umbridge's face as she glanced around suspiciously at the Slytherins in the room, all of whom looked very eager.

"All right, dear, let's just make it you and me," Umbridge finally said, "And we'll take Potter, too, shall we? Get up, now..."

"Professor," Malfoy spoke up, sounding far too eager, "Professor Umbridge, I think some of the squad should come with you to look after—"

"I am a fully qualified Ministry official, Malfoy, do you really think I cannot manage two wandless teenagers along?" Umbridge snapped and Bryt fought hard not to grin against her gag at the look on Malfoy's face, "In any case, it does not sound as though this weapon is something that schoolchildren should see. You will remain here until I return to make sure none of these escape."

Umbridge motioned around the room at Bryt and her friends and Bryt glared, not liking at all that Umbridge sounded as if she were talking about filthy, diseased rodents rather than a group of students.

"All right," Malfoy said, obviously disappointed.

"And you two can go ahead of me and show the way," Umbridge said, turning to Hermione and Harry, her wand pointed right to them, "Lead on."

Harry and Hermione started out of the room, Umbridge right behind, leaving Bryt and the others with their captives. As the door clicked shut, only one thought was running through Bryt's mind:

She was never, _ever_ going to accuse Hermione of being a bad liar again.


	43. Escape

Several minutes passed in silence with everyone struggling against their captures again. Bryt looked around her, wishing she could get to her wand. She looked over and noticed Ron staring at her and she just stared back, trying to tell Ron with her face that she trusted Hermione.

Suddenly, Ron glanced to the side, then back at Bryt. Confused, Bryt just blinked at him and Ron repeated the gesture quickly, as if he were worried the Slytherins would notice. Bryt doubted it since they were talking to each other about what the weapon could be. Even Parkinson was starting to loosen her grip around Bryt's wrists.

Bryt followed Ron's motion, looking over to where Luna was and was surprised to see she wasn't even held like the rest of them. Luna was standing on her own accord, humming some odd tune—she even still had her wand poking out of the bun in her hair.

Bryt looked back at Ron again and he looked down towards his right. Following his gaze, she noticed that the Slytherin behind him had him by the elbows instead of wrists, leaving his hands free and he was now inching his right hand towards the wand poking out of his pocket. Bryt looked back up at Ron and gave one very short nod, showing she understood, then jerked her head slightly over her shoulder. She couldn't exactly get her wand when Parkinson had her around the wrists.

Ron gave a short nod back, then glanced towards Ginny and Neville. Bryt glanced towards them as well, noticing they both had been watching them. Neville already had his hand around his wand, but Ginny, like Bryt, had her hands caught at the wrist. Bryt locked eyes with Ginny and grinned through her gag. They were both hard hitters, it wouldn't be hard to get loose with the Slytherins distracted.

Bryt saw the edges of Ginny's gag twitch and she gave a short nod of her own. Hopefully once they started their attack, Luna would catch on and join in—they couldn't exactly get a message to her when she was staring out the window.

Looking back at Ron, Bryt saw he was slipping his wand from his pocket now, staring right at her. He glanced over her head, then back to her, and Bryt gave a slight shake. Parkinson was hers. She was going to get this cow back herself. Ron's gag twitched and she could tell he was frowning, but Bryt gave a small shake again, then looked towards Crabbe and Neville. Neville caught her glance and looked towards the Slytherin holding Ron, then down at Ron himself. The two studied each other, apparently catching on to Bryt's meaning, and both gave a small nod at the same time. They'd both try to get each others' captures. Bryt looked back to Ginny, who gave a small nod herself. She was ready. Bryt nodded back.

Bryt sighed through her gag, then they all glanced towards Ron. He moved his left hand around just enough for everyone to see and showed three fingers, getting three short nods in return. Then, Ron closed his fist again, followed by one finger.

Bryt tensed, clutching her hands tighter.

Two fingers.

Bryt took a deep breath, bracing her feet for what she planned to do.

Three fingers.

Time to act.

Bryt pushed herself forward, turning sharply so she swung her hands behind her in an arch. Like she had hoped, she caught Parkinson off guard and was rewarded with the girl letting out a squeal as she was pulled off balance, falling sideways and letting go of Bryt to balance herself. Bryt spun around, swinging up and gained a satisfying crunching noise as her fist met Parkinson's face.

"Do dubid Mudlood!" Parkinson cried, one hand over her bleeding nose as the other pulled out her wand, "_Stubify_!"

Bryt ducked out of the way of the spell, not wanting to be hit with whatever that mispronunciation would cause. Bryt yanked the gag out of her mouth as she got her wand from her own pocket, aiming a stunning spell back at Parkinson as more spells shot around her. Bryt and her friends rushed for the door then, hurrying out as quickly as possible and Bryt looked over her shoulder, grinning brightly at the chaos they caused. All the Slytherins save one were either Stunned or unconscious—Malfoy, however, was in the middle of the room, fighting off a nasty Bat-Bogey Hex. Bryt laughed, pulling the door to and Ginny cast a quick charm to melt the doorknob so they'd all be locked in.

"Great work on that hex, Ginny," Bryt said as they all ran down the hallway. Ginny smiled proudly.

"At least I got these," Ron said with a grin of his own, holding up Hermione and Harry's wands. Bryt grinned at him as they started down the hallway, not stopping again until they were sure they were away from any trouble.

"Anyone know what we should do now?" Neville asked.

"I saw Harry, Hermione, and Professor Umbridge head into the Forbidden Forest," Luna said in her usual dreamy tone, sounding as if she were commenting on the weather, "Maybe we could start there."

Everyone agreed and they made their way out of the castle, then heading straight for the tree lines. They all lit their wands, heading straight into the forest and tried to follow any signs of where they should go. It wasn't long before they heard shouts coming from further in.

"That sounds like Professor Umbridge," Neville said, his face pale.

"Sounds like she's finally getting what's coming to her," Bryt replied, pushing into a run towards the shouts—wherever Umbridge was, Harry and Hermione had to be nearby.

Soon, the sounds of the shouts faded away and they had to stop, not sure where to go now. Bryt was just about to ask the others when she heard Harry's voice further ahead.

"Smart plan," he was saying sarcastically, "Really smart plan. Where do we go from here?"

"We need to go back up to the castle," Hermione replied.

Bryt exchanged glances with her friends, feeling relieved. It sounded like Harry and Hermione were safe. Bryt started back off through the trees, the others right behind.

"By the time we've done that, Sirius'll probably be dead!" Harry said far too loudly for being in such a dangerous forest.

"Well, we can't do anything without wands," Hermione shot back just as Bryt spotted her friends in a small clearing, "Anyway, Harry, how exactly were you planning to get all the way to London?"

"Yeah, we were just wondering that," Ron spoke up.

Harry and Hermione spun around, going tense, but relaxing when they noticed who had come up. Bryt looked the two over, relieved they were both fine—well, their robes were dark with blood, but she could tell that it definitely wasn't their own.

"So," Ron said as he handed Harry and Hermione back their wands, "Had any ideas?"

"How did you get away?" Harry asked, staring at them as if he hadn't expected to see them again. Bryt snorted.

"We're tough," she said, "And they were a bunch of Slytherins. It wasn't hard."

"We saw you heading into the forest out of the window and followed," Ron added, "What've you done with Umbridge?"

"She got carried away by a heard of centaurs."

_'Serves her right,'_ Bryt thought, for the first time, finding an odd sense of pleasure at thinking about the harm that was going to befall someone else—then felt a slight pang of guilt over it. Until she remembered exactly the type of woman Umbridge was and found herself unable to feel sorry for her.

"And they left you behind?" Ginny asked, looking surprised.

"Well, they're still underage," Bryt said, "Centaurs don't harm 'young'."

"Actually, Grawp chased them off," Harry said and Bryt gave him a surprised look. That was a story she was going to have to get him to explain later.

"Who's Grawp?" Luna asked.

"Hagrid's little brother," Ron said, then turned back to Harry before Luna could ask more questions, "Anyway, never mind that now. Harry, what did you find out in the fire? Has You-Know-Who got Sirius or—?"

"Yes," Harry said and Bryt gripped Ron's hand next to her, "And I'm sure Sirius is still alive, but I can't see how we're going to get there to him."

Silence fell around them and Bryt looked around to see everyone was thinking—even Neville. Bryt had to admit, she admired his loyalty to help and not ask questions about who Sirius was and why they were trying to save him. He knew friends were in trouble and wanted to help. Neville was definitely one of the best to count as a friend.

"Well, we'll have to fly, won't we?" Luna said simply, sounding as if she thought it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Okay, first of all, 'we' aren't doing anything if you're including yourself in that," Harry said, "And second of all, Ron and Bryt're the only ones with a broomstick that isn't being guarded by a security troll, so—"

"I've got a broom!" Ginny protested.

"Yeah, but you're not coming," Ron shot back.

"She's just as tough as us!" Bryt said.

"And what would you do if Mike or Drew wanted to come?"

Bryt closed her mouth, knowing she'd have no argument to that. She knew exactly what she'd do. It didn't matter how strong they were, they were Second Years—and, more importantly, her little brothers. She would do everything possible to make sure they never saw even a hint of a fight.

"I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!" Ginny said loudly.

"You're too—"

"I'm three years older than you were when you fought You-Know-Who over the Sorcerer's Stone," Ginny cut Harry off, "And it's because of me Malfoy's stuck back in Umbridge's office with giant bogeys attacking him—"

"Yeah, but—"

"We were all in the DA together," Neville spoke up, "It was all supposed to be about fighting You-Know-Who, wasn't it? And this is the first chance we've had to do something real—or was that all just a game or something?"

"No—of course it wasn't—" Harry started.

"Then we should come too," Neville cut in, looking far more confident than Bryt had ever seen him—even in Herbology, "We want to help."

"That's right," Luna added, a bright grin on her face.

Bryt noticed Harry and Ron give each other a look and Bryt looked around at their group. She had to admit, their odds would be better with others around them, but looking at Ginny only brought back Ron's words: _And what would you do if it Mike or Drew wanted to come?_

Ginny was one of her best friends, but she was also her boyfriend's little sister. Hell, Ginny was like her own sister. Did she really want to drag others into this mess if they didn't have to?

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway," Harry finally said, "Because we still don't know how to get there—"

"I thought we'd settled that," Luna said in a tone that said she thought Harry was extremely thick, "We're flying!"

"Look," Ron said sharply, "You might be able to fly without a broomstick but the rest of us can't sprout wings whenever we—"

"There are other ways of flying than with broomsticks," Luna cut in.

"I s'pose we're going to ride on the back of a Kacky Snorgle or whatever it is?"

Bryt elbowed Ron in the side. They were in a tight spot, but there was no need for him to be rude.

"The Crumple-Horned Snorkack can't fly," Luna said matter-of-factly, "But _they_ can, and Hagrid says they're very good at finding places their riders are looking for."

Bryt turned instantly to where Luna was pointing and saw two thestrals at the edge of the clearing, cautiously making their way towards Harry. Bryt suddenly felt like smacking herself on the forehead. She was 'their resident creature expert', as Ron liked to call her. Why didn't she think of this?

Bryt moved forward, petting one on the nose as Harry did the same with the second, looking as if he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

"Is it those mad horse things?" Ron asked, "Those ones you can't see unless you've watched someone snuff it?"

Bryt hit Ron upside the head, glaring at him. Ron suddenly looked sheepish and opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione suddenly asked how many were there.

"Just two," Bryt replied, turning away from Ron, but not before giving him a slight grin to show him there were no hard feelings.

"Well, we need four," Hermione said, looking pale but determined.

"Five, Hermione," Ginny corrected.

"I think there are seven of us, actually," Luna said.

"Don't be stupid, we can't all go!" Harry shouted, "Look, you three—" he stopped to motion between Neville, Ginny, and Luna, "—you're not involved in this, you're not—"

Bryt wasn't sure what anyone said in protest—all three of their voices came out in a jumbled mess. Bryt sighed, realizing there was going to be no arguing with them. They were coming—whether the rest of them liked it or not. All Bryt could do was be guiltily relieved that her brothers weren't there as well.

"Okay, fine, it's your choice," Harry said irritably, seeming to come to the same conclusion Bryt had, "But unless we can find more thestrals you're not going to be able—"

"Oh, more of them will come," Ginny said, sounding very sure of herself as she stared completely opposite of the way the first thestrals had come.

"Ginny's right," Bryt said, "You and Hermione are covered in blood, it'll attract more thestrals."

Harry glanced to the thestral licking at his robes, then turned back to the others.

"Okay then," he said, "Ron and I will take these two and go ahead, and—"

"You're _not_ leavin' me behind!" Bryt said hotly. Ron opened his mouth, apparently to argue, but closed it again when Bryt glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest.

"There's no need," Luna spoke up, pointing off behind the two thestrals, "Look, here more come now...You two must really smell..."

Bryt turned again and saw about a half-dozen more thestrals were coming into the clearing. Plenty for everyone there to ride. Bryt sighed. There went that last desperate excuse to keep others safe by leaving them behind.

"All right," Harry snapped, "Pick one and get on, then."

Harry immediately turned to the thestral next to him and climbed on, Neville following suit with one nearby. Bryt and Luna took a moment to help Ron, Hermione, and Ginny before climbing onto the back of thestrals themselves.

Bryt had ridden horses before—and even rode a hippogriff a couple of times—but being on the back of a thestral felt strange. The skin felt almost rubbery and smooth, and far too thin. Bryt marveled over the fact that they could hold any weight at all, not to mention students or pulling the school carriages every year.

"This is mad," Ron said and Bryt looked over to see him gingerly running his hand along the neck of the thestral he was riding, "Mad...If I could just see it—"

"Be glad you can't," Bryt cut in and, once again, Ron got a sheepish look on his face and looked away.

"We all ready, then?" Harry called and got six nods in response, "Okay..." Harry turned to the thestral he was riding. "Er...Ministry of Magic, visitor's entrance, London, then...Er...If you know...where to go..."

Bryt braced herself, wrapping her hands into the thestral's mane to keep a good grip. A moment later, Harry's thestral jumped into the air, shortly followed by the others.

They were on their way.


	44. Into the Ministry

Despite the dire circumstances, Bryt had to admit, righting a thestral was an amazing experience. She had ridden on a flying creature before—twice—but a hippogriff was nothing compared to a thestral. Somehow, the ride was smoother, despite the creature being much more boney and leaving little sitting room. She was also moving much faster than Buckbeak had, everything streaking by in a blur of dark colors in the setting sun.

The further they flew, the darker it became until the sun had set completely, leaving it impossible for Bryt to know where they were. It was an eerie, disorientating feeling, flying through darkness with no sense of how high up they were.

Just as Bryt was beginning to feel practically frozen from the wind, there was a sudden downward jolt and she let out a startled yell.

London's nighttime lights game into view below, slowly growing larger and larger. They soon came to a land on an abandoned street Bryt didn't recognize with little more than a red telephone box that had been covered in graffiti over the years. Bryt looked around, not seeing any sign of where the Ministry of Magic could be.

_'Of course, St. Mungo's was well hidden,'_ Bryt thought as she slid off the thestral's back, looking around again. Any one of these buildings could be an invisible doorway to the Ministry.

"Never again," Ron muttered as he got off the thestral, then walked right into the thing, nearly falling over. Bryt moved over to help brace him up. "Never, ever again...That was the worst—"

"Where do we go from here, then?" Luna asked, cutting Ron off. Bryt couldn't blame Ron for having a bad ride. She had enjoyed it—but she had been able to see the thestrals. She couldn't imagine what it was like up in the air with nothing but feeling the creature to know something was holding him up.

"Over here," Harry said and Bryt turned to see he'd gone straight to the telephone box, holding the door open, "Come on!"

Bryt gave Ron a confused look, but he and Ginny headed into the telephone box without any argument. Bryt sighed and followed behind, shortly followed by Neville, Luna, Hermione, and Harry—Bryt was once again glad she didn't share Julio's claustrophobia. This would not be an ideal place for anyone, cramped to the point that she couldn't move while six others tried to share the same small space.

"Whoever's nearest the receiver, dial six two four four two," Harry said from somewhere near the door.

Ron shifted slightly, pushing further against Bryt so he could get his arm to the phone, pushing the numbers as Harry instructed. For a moment, Bryt thought nothing would happen. Then a female voice spoke up, sounding as if there were an invisible woman in the box with them.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic," the voice said, "Please state your name and business."

"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Bryt Watkins, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood," Harry listed off quickly, "We're here to save someone, unless you Ministry lot can do it first!"

Bryt thought it was an idiotic thing to say and was sure they weren't going to get in—giving her a quick sense of panic and dread. The feeling was replaced by confusion, though, as the woman spoke up again:

"Thank you. Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes."

Bryt stared, dumbfounded, as several name tags poked out of the coin return slot. She watched as Hermione took them and started to pass them out. Bryt took hers and stared at it to see her name, followed by "RESCUE MISSION".

_'Not very secure,'_ Bryt thought, shoving her badge in her pocket. Anyone could get into the Ministry like this.

"Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk," the female voice went on, "which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

"Fine!" Harry snapped, "Now can we _move_?"

There was a small jolt and the floor slowly started to sink beneath them. Bryt tensed, staring as the street disappeared above them, leaving them in a constricting darkness, the only clue they were still moving being the sounds of gears moving the lift.

_'Poor Julio would have long-since had a panic attack,'_ Bryt thought grimly.

The minute slowly ticked past and Bryt couldn't but think about Sirius. How long had it been since Harry had the vision during the History of Magic exam? How long could Sirius hold out? What if he was already...

_'No,'_ Bryt thought, tensing, _'No. This can't all be for nothing. We'll save Sirius.'_

A dim light filled the box around their feet, slowly rising more and more and Bryt gripped her wand, expecting to be met with any type of night security the Ministry might have.

Instead, the massive room beyond was completely empty.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant evening," the voice from the box said before the doors opened and everyone made their way out.

Bryt, still gripping her wand, stared around her. She couldn't believe no one was here. Not even a night patrolman. What was wrong with the Ministry? Were they so arrogant that they didn't think anyone would ever break in, even after someone _had_ broken in several months before?

_'The Ministry is full of idiots,'_ Bryt thought.

"Come on," Harry said before taking off down the hallway at a run. Bryt and the others followed, now having no time to take in their surroundings. Not that it mattered to Bryt. Sight-seeing wasn't what she wanted to do. What she wanted was to get to the room from Harry's dreams and save Sirius.

They made their way to a set of lifts, hurrying in before riding it down several floors where the same female voice from before announced that they'd reached the Department of Mysteries. Bryt took a deep breath as they all climbed out. This was it. They were getting so much closer...

"Okay, listen," Harry said as they reached a large door towards the end of the hall, "Maybe...Maybe a couple of people should stay here as a—as a lookout, and—"

"And how're we going to let you know something's coming?" Ginny shot back, "You could be miles away."

"We're coming with you, Harry," Neville added.

"Let's get on with it," Ron said with a determined nod. Bryt reached over and gripped his hand in hers. She always felt more at ease with him by her side. She felt braver, like she would be ready for anything.

_'All those DA lessons are about to be put to the test,'_ Bryt thought. She just prayed she was ready.

Harry stared at them, looking torn. Finally, he sighed and turned back to the door before heading through, the others following behind.

The next room was not what Bryt expected. She stared around her, put off by how large and empty it was. There was nothing in the circular room besides a few blue flickering lights and several doors leading to who-knew-where. Bryt noticed the shine on the floor, making it almost seem as if they were standing on top of a very still pond. It was a bit unnerving.

"Someone shut the door," Harry said quietly.

Neville did as Harry said, but the second the door clicked shut, they were immersed into near-darkness. Bryt moved closer to Ron, staring around, but unable to see much in the dim blue lighting. There was a sudden, loud noise that caused Bryt to jump and move close enough to Ron that she was pressed against him. Then, the blue lights began to blur into a long streak around the room and it was clear what the noise was—the walls were spinning around them.

Just as soon as it started, the walls stopped again, leaving the room eerily quiet after the loud rumbling.

"What was that about?" Ron whispered.

"I think it was to stop us from knowing which door we came in from," Ginny replied.

"This isn't good," Bryt whispered, gripping Ron's hand tighter as she stared around them. If they didn't know what door they came out through, how were they going to get out after they saved Sirius?

Neville voiced the same question and Harry replied quickly that they'd worry about that later, after Sirius was safe.

"Where do we go, then, Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry was quiet, looking almost ill in the little light they had.

"In the dreams I went through the door at the end of the corridor from the lifts into a dark room—that's this one—and then I went through another door into a room that kind of...glitters. We should try a few doors. I'll know the right way when I see it. C'mon."

Bryt watched as Harry headed for the nearest door, hoping that he was right. She didn't like the idea of getting lost in a place like this. Bryt sighed, following along with the others into a room that seemed significantly brighter—though it was still dark itself.

There wasn't much in this room. A few desks and a large tank giving off a sickly green glow that was filled with some strange, white things that Bryt couldn't quite make out.

"What're those things?" Ron asked, staring to move closer, Bryt keeping close beside him.

Bryt squinted at the tank as Hermione came up beside her, looking pale.

"They're brains," she said weakly and Bryt jerked back, staring at the tank in disgust.

"_Brains?_" she echoed.

"Yes...I wonder what they're doing with them?"

"I don't want to know," Bryt said, turning her back to the tank, feeling sick.

"Let's get out of here," Harry said, much to Bryt's relief, "This isn't right, we need to try another door."

"There are more doors here too," Ron said, staring off to the other side of the room. Bryt refused to turn around. She didn't want to see the tank again.

"In my dream I went through that dark room into the second one," Harry pointed out, "I think we should go back and try from there."

Trusting Harry, they all headed back into the circular room where Hermione used a quick spell to mark the door they just went through before the walls could start spinning again.

"Good thinking," Harry said, then when the walls stopped, he started for the nearest unmarked door, "Let's try this one."

This room was as dark as the circular one with the center of the room sunk down lower than the edges, an old arch with a ragged curtain sitting there. Bryt cocked her head, noticing the curtain was moving slightly. Was someone in here with them?

"Who's there?" Harry asked, starting down towards the archway. Bryt found herself following without thinking.

The closer to the arch Bryt got, the more sure she was that someone else was there. She could definitely hear voices, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. Bryt and Harry both looked around the back of the arch, but there was nothing there.

"Where are those voices coming from?" Bryt asked herself, faintly aware of Hermione saying something nearby, but she didn't pay attention to what.

Despite looking like it was about to fall apart and had a curtain that looked almost destroyed, Bryt had to admit the arch had a sort of beauty to it, like seeing the overgrown ruins of a long-abandoned castle.

"Someone's whispering behind there," Harry said next to Bryt, "Is that you, Ron?"

"I'm here, mate," Ron said nearby.

"Can't anyone else hear it?" Harry asked, and as if in response, the whispering seemed to grow louder.

"I can," Bryt said, taking another step towards the arch.

"I can hear them too," Luna added, "There are people in there!"

"What do you mean 'in there'?" Hermione snapped, coming up to them, "There isn't any 'in there', it's just an archway, there's no room for anybody to be there—come on, we need to get out of here."

Bryt felt a tug on her robe, but she brushed whoever it was off. She couldn't help but wonder what the curtain felt like. It looked as if it'd be velvet...

"We're supposed to be here for Sirius!" Hermione said loudly.

Bryt jerked, turning to stare at Hermione, blinking. How could she forget about Sirius? Bryt tensed, quickly moving away from the archway and back to Ron's side, dreading what would have happened if she gave into the impulse to get any close to that arch. She doubted anything good would have come from that.

"What d'you think that arch was?" Harry asked when they were all back in the circular room and Hermione marked the door they just came through.

"I don't know, but whatever it is, it was dangerous," Hermione said simply.

Once the room spun and stilled again, Harry headed towards one to his left, but it was locked. Not even his knife that was supposed to work on any lock could open it—the lock even melted the knife, rendering it completely useless.

"Looks like we won't be using that room," Bryt said.

"But what if that's the one?" Ron asked.

"It can't be, Harry could get through all the doors in his dream," Hermione replied as she marked the door. Bryt could only hope she was right.

"You know what could be in there?" Luna asked, but no one replied. Though Bryt liked Luna, she wasn't in the mood for conspiracy theories.

Harry moved to a different door, then let out a cry of relief when it was opened. They'd finally found the right room. Bryt rushed forward with the others, shielding her eyes once she was through the door. It was a sudden light change like when the lights came back on in a movie theater after being so used to the darkness. The room had dozens of lights and Harry had been right about the 'glittering'. Every light seemed to be enhanced due to reflecting off of hundreds of hourglasses and clocks that took up every space of walls, shelves, and desks scattered around the room, ticking so noisily that Bryt wondered how anyone managed to stay in this room without getting a headache. On the other end of the room sat a bell jar that seemed to span completely from floor to ceiling.

"This way!" Harry said, taking off through the room. Bryt followed behind, but came to a stop when Ginny called out excitedly, pointing at the bell jar.

It took Bryt a moment to notice what Ginny had seen. Then she noticed a small egg floating upwards in the jar. It started to hatch, out if it coming a hummingbird that flew straight to the top of the jar, only to be pushed downwards and slowly shift back into an egg.

"That's horrible," Bryt said, disgusted as the egg started to hatch again. How could anyone want to sit and watch an animal grow and deage over and over again?

"Keep going!" Harry snapped nearby and Bryt willingly turned away, following behind him towards the next room.

"This is it," Harry said, "It's through here."

Bryt felt her heart beginning to pound hard and she kept herself close to Ron, gripping her wand tightly in her hand. This was it. Through this room would be Sirius. The moment had finally come for them to save Harry's godfather. To face off against the most feared man in the wizarding world.

_'God, I hope we're ready,'_ Bryt thought, though she had a sinking feeling that they were anything but.


	45. Time to Fight

Bryt kept close to Ron as they stepped into the room and looked around. The place was huge—Bryt couldn't even see any of the far walls—and was filled with roof-high shelves, each lined with hundreds of glass orbs that gave faint gray or orange glows under thick layers of dust. Like the circular room, the only light in this room were the dim blue flames, sending an almost ghostly glow. Bryt had to admit, there was an almost eerie beauty to the place.

Bryt stared around intently, looking for any sign of Sirius or Voldemort, but saw nothing. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest to the point that Bryt swore the others could hear it.

"You said it was row ninety-seven," Hermione said quietly, glancing towards Harry.

"Yeah," Harry said just as quietly, looking towards the row next to him. Bryt followed his gaze to see they were at row fifty-three.

"We need to go right, I think," Hermione said, "Yes...That's fifty-four..."

As they started forward, Bryt slowly reached out again, gripping Ron's hand. She was at the point that her fear was starting to get the better of her again. Her mind screamed at her to stop, to hide somewhere and not move. It took all of Bryt's strength to push herself forward, putting one foot in front of the other and ignore the impulse to shut down. She'd done that far too many times before and it always cost her. She was determined not to let it happen again.

_'Sirius,'_ she kept thinking, motivating herself to take that next step, _'We're here for Sirius. We have to save him. Sirius. We're here for Sirius...'_

"Ninety-seven!" Hermione announced, bringing the group to a stop a couple of minutes later.

They all grouped closer together, each staring in a different direction. Bryt's nerves were at an all-time high now and she was beginning to get twitchy while keeping a near death-grip on Ron's hand next to her.

"He's right down at the end," Harry said, "You can't see him properly from here..."

Bryt hesitated for a second, then tripped over her own feet when she forced herself to move forward. She silently cursed herself, wishing not for the first time she didn't have this problem with her fear getting the better of her.

"He should be near here," Harry was saying, his voice sounding oddly distant as Bryt's mind buzzed, screaming at her again to stop, to hide somewhere, "Anywhere here...really close...Somewhere about...here..."

They had reached the end of the row, but were met with nothing. Bryt glanced around, not sure if this was good or bad news. All she knew was that something was wrong. Sirius should have been here. There should have been some sign that something had happened here. But there was nothing.

"I...I don't think Sirius is here..." Hermione whispered.

Harry looked as if he refused to believe it, running off down the row again. Bryt and the others stared at each other, it obvious none of them knowing what to do. Bryt was starting to think that Sirius had never been here. But if that was true, why did Harry have his dream? Why didn't Sirius answer Harry when he tried to find him at Grimmauld Place?

_'Something's not right,'_ Bryt thought weakly as she stared around at her, as if she many glass orbs would hold the answer.

Ron let go of Bryt's hand suddenly, moving closer towards one of the shelves. Bryt turned to see him staring intently at one of the glass orbs about eye-level with him on the shelf. Bryt walked over and stood on her toes, trying to catch glimpse of what was there, but couldn't see anything beyond more orbs.

"Harry," Ron called.

"What?"

"Have you seen this?"

"What?" Harry hurried over towards them, but looked severely disappointed when he got there. Bryt couldn't blame him. He was probably hoping for news about Sirius.

"It's...It's got your name on it," Ron said, pointing to one orb on the shelf.

"My name?" Harry asked weakly.

Bryt was confused herself as she watched Harry move closer to the shelf. She looked back at the one eye-level with her and for the first time noticed each had a tag with names on them. None of them were names Bryt recognized.

"What is it?" Ron asked, starting to sound a bit anxious, "What's your name doing down here?"

"It doesn't look like any of us are here," Bryt said. What were the chances Harry's dream would bring him here, to this exact spot, where they wouldn't find Sirius like they expected, but instead a glass orb with Harry's name on it? Something wasn't right. Bryt started glancing around them and noticed from the look on Hermione's face that her friend was thinking along the same lines as her.

"Harry, I don't think you should touch it," Hermione said and Bryt looked to see Harry had just reached out for the shelf.

"Why not?" he asked, "It's something to do with me, isn't it?"

"Don't, Harry," it was Neville this time, looking pale, sweaty, and on-edge.

"It's got my name on it," Harry said simply, reaching up again.

Bryt held her breath, standing tense, preparing herself for whatever was about to happen. They had to be here for a reason. Something had to happen as soon as Harry touched that glass orb.

But nothing did. Harry leaned back, holding the sphere in his hand and staring down at it in confusion. Bryt wondered if he had been expecting something to happen as well.

_'Well, that was anti-climactic,'_ Bryt thought, starting to feel drained.

"Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me."

Bryt spun around, instinctively moving closer to Ron again. On either side of the group, blocking both ways of escape, were several people in masks and long, black cloaks. Death Eaters. Bryt's heart started to pound as she gripped her wand, feeling her blood run cold and she was starting to shake slightly. They were outnumbered. They were teenagers, facing full-grown men who were capable of—and willing to—torturing and murdering those that got in their way.

Bryt had no idea how they were going to get out of this one.

"To me, Potter," said the closest cloaked figure—Bryt recognized the voice instantly at Mr. Malfoy's.

"Where's Sirius?" Harry asked, sounding a lot braver than Bryt felt. Bryt didn't know whether she was comforted by that or not. She just kept looking around, recounting the men around them, only to realize her first count was right. They were outnumbered.

The Death Eaters were laughing now and Bryt heard a distinctly female voice going "The Dark Lord Always knows!"

"I want to know where Sirius is!" Harry said again.

"_I want to know where Sirius is!_" it was the woman again, using a high, mocking tone. There was something about her voice that sent a chill down Bryt's spine but she didn't know why.

"You've got him," Harry said, "He's here. I know he is."

But Bryt knew Sirius wasn't there. Things just didn't add up. Sirius wasn't there. He probably never was.

"_The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo,_" the woman was mocking again, this time using a disturbing baby talk and Bryt tensed, fighting hard not to reach out for Ron. She didn't want to give these people the satisfaction of seeing her terrified—though she had a feeling her fear might be clear enough on her face already.

Ron moved slightly and Bryt saw from the corner of her eye that he was staring to lift his wand.

"Don't do anything," Harry muttered, "Not yet."

The woman started laughing, the sound horrible and terrifying at the same time. Bryt's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

"You hear him?" the woman asked, "_You hear him?_ Giving instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!"

_'Of course we'll fight,'_ Bryt thought. She knew they stood no chance. They'd most likely all be killed, but it didn't matter. They were _not_ going to go down quietly.

"Oh, you don't know Potter as I do, Bellatrix," Mr. Malfoy said and Bryt's gaze went to the cloaked woman again, feeling a new sense of dread. The woman was Bellatrix, the one from Kreacher's photo? The one who tortured Neville's parents into insanity? Neville obviously recognized the name as well because he went tense next to Bryt and she didn't dare glance over at him, not wanting to see whatever look was on her friend's face at the moment.

"He has a great weakness for heroics," Mr. Malfoy went on, "The Dark Lord understand this about him. _Now give me the prophecy, Potter_."

_'Prophecy?'_ Bryt thought, looking to the sphere in Harry's hands. That's what the glass orb was? Bryt looked around her. Was that what this room was full of? Prophecies? If so, why was there one with Harry's name on it?

"I know Sirius is here," Harry yelled, "_I know you've got him!_"

_'But he's_ not _here,'_ Bryt thought. That fact was becoming more and more clear every second, especially with the Death Eaters laughing again.

"It's time you learned the difference between life and dreams, Potter," Mr. Malfoy said, "Now give me the prophecy, or we start using wands."

"Go on then," Harry challenged, raising his wand. Bryt took a deep breath, trying to shove back her fear as she followed suit with the others. She knew they weren't getting out of this alive, but that wasn't going to stop her from trying.

"Hand over the prophecy and no one need get hurt," Mr. Malfoy said, none of the Death Eaters moving. Bryt felt a quick jolt of hope. They wanted this prophecy unharmed. As long as Harry had it, the Death Eaters weren't going to do anything. They had a chance, however slim.

"Yeah, right!" Harry said, laughing, "I give you this—prophecy, is it? And you'll just let us skip off home, will you?"

"_Accio Proph_—"

"_Protego!_" Harry seemed to cast the spell just in time, blocking Bellatrix's attempt to get the prophecy, much to her annoyance.

"Oh, he knows how to play, little bitty baby Potter," she said, "Very well, then—"

"I TOLD YOU, NO!" Mr. Malfoy yelled, turning towards Bellatrix, "If you smash it..."

Bellatrix brushed him off as she stepped forward from the group.

"You need more persuasion? Very well," she turned to the nearest Death Eater, "Take the smallest one. Let him watch while we torture the little girl. I'll do it."

Bryt tensed, fear gripping her as Ron blocked her view of the Death Eaters when he stepped in front of her. He wasn't the only one. It seemed the entire group had pushed in around her, making sure no one could get to her. Even still, Bryt didn't feel any safer.

"You'll have to smash this if you want to attack any of us," Harry said, "I don't think your boss will be too pleased if you come back without it, will he?"

There was no answer and Bryt forced herself to move, peering around Ron's side towards the Death Eaters, starting to feel a bit like a frightened child hiding behind her parents for protection.

"So," Harry went on, "What kind of prophecy are we talking about anyway?"

"What kind of prophecy?" Bellatrix repeated, "You jest, Harry Potter."

"Nope, no jesting. How come Voldemort wants it?"

All the Death Eaters made odd sounds at the mention of Voldemort's name and Bryt couldn't help but find it a bit ironic that even his followers didn't want the name to be said.

"You dare speak his name?" Bellatrix snapped.

"Yeah," Harry said, "Yeah, I've got no problem saying Vol—"

"Shut your mouth! You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood's tongue, you dare—"

"Did you know he's a half-blood too?" Harry asked and Bryt groaned. Taunting them wasn't going to end well. "Voldemort? Yeah, his mother was a witch, but his dad was a Muggle—or has he been telling you lot he's pureblood?"

"_STUPEF_—"

"_NO!_"

Bellatrix had shot a stunning spell at Harry, but Mr. Malfoy had knocked her arm upward so that the spell it a shelf nearby. Bryt covered her head against the shower of glass and the sounds of voices drifted from the orbs, apparently the recordings of the smashed prophecies.

"DO NOT ATTACK!" Mr. Malfoy yelled, "WE NEED THE PROPHECY!"

"He dared—he dares—He stands there—filthy half-blood—"

"WAIT UNTIL WE'VE GOT THE PROPHECY!"

"You haven't told me what's so special about this prophecy I'm supposed to be handing over," Harry said.

"Do not play games with us, Potter," Mr. Malfoy snapped.

"I'm not playing games."

"Dumbledore never told you that the reason you bear that scar was hidden in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries?"

"What?" Harry asked, "What about my scar?"

"Can this be?" Mr. Malfoy laughed again, "Dumbledore never told you? Well, this explains why you didn't come earlier, Potter. The Dark Lord wondered why you didn't come running when he showed you the place where it was hidden in your dreams. He thought natural curiosity would make you want to hear the exact wording..."

Curiosity rushed through Bryt, but she didn't have time to dwell on it. Hermione had leaned over, whispering to them that Harry wanted them to be ready. When he gave the signal, they were going to send spells at the shelves, destroying them and distracting the Death Eaters long enough to escape.

Bryt's heart began pounding again, adrenaline rushing through her. She gripped her wand tightly, her eyes locking on the shelf nearby. One good shot and the thing would explode. Hopefully it would be enough for them to get away. Just distract the Death Eaters long enough for them to get back to the lifts...

"So he's got you doing his dirty work for him, has he?" Harry's voice broke into Bryt's thoughts and she tensed. Any moment now...

"Like he tried to get Sturgis to steal it," Harry went on, "And Bode?"

"Very good, Potter, very good..." Mr. Malfoy said, "But the Dark Lord knows you are not unintell—"

"NOW!"

Bryt acted without thinking, aiming her wand and yelling "_REDUCTO!_" The curse hit home, causing the shelf to shatter—it wasn't the only one. Everyone else had shot off the curse as well and shelves exploded all around them.

"RUN!" Harry yelled and Bryt took off, not allowing herself to stop and think. If she did, she knew she'd lock up, become an easy target for the Death Eaters. She had to focus on only one thing: Getting out of the room. That's all that mattered. Reaching that door and getting through it.

Ron grabbed hold of Bryt's arm, making sure she kept up with him. She didn't mind at all—of all the people there, Bryt would rather have Ron at her back. Bryt, Ron, Ginny, and Luna kept close to each other, reaching the door and tumbling through.

Bryt immediately gave a yelp as she felt herself get pulled from her feet. She braced herself, thinking she'd just been hit with a spell, but soon realized that wasn't the case as she noticed Ron, Luna, and Ginny were floating as well. Bryt looked around, but didn't see any sign of Harry, Hermione, or Neville. Instead, she found herself staring up at large, floating models of the planets and moons of their solar system.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, clearly unnerved.

"Where's the others?" Ginny asked.

Bryt shook her head, having no answer. The door behind them opened again and they all turned in midair, wands raised, to see four of the Death Eaters had followed.

"One for each of us," Ron said grimly, "_Stupefy_!"

Bryt, Ginny, and Luna all shot off Stunners as well, but only two of them hit home. Two of the Death Eaters went spiraling through the air while the other two started trying to make their way towards them, shooting off curses. Bryt ducked out of the way of one that went right over her head and she heard Ron cry out behind her. Bryt spun around, relieved to see he was still conscious and upright in the air, but he now had a very odd look on his face.

Bryt spun back around, figuring Ron was just relieved he was okay, and shot off another Stunning spell, hitting the Death Eater that had hit Ron, sending him flying through the air. Bryt's heart was pounding and she was shaking with fear, but she was fighting. She wasn't standing frozen like a statue. As long as she focused on protecting her friends, on getting out of this alive, maybe she could get through this...

"Hey, Bryt, look!" Ron's voice came from behind her, "I see Uranus! Get it?"

Bryt spun around back to Ron again and noticed he was laughing. She pushed herself through the air, grabbing onto his arm, suddenly worried. What exactly had that Death Eater hit Ron with? Whatever it was, Ron seemed out of his mind and when he laughed again, Bryt felt as if her heart almost stopped as she noticed a trickle of blood come from the corner of Ron's mouth.

"LET GO!"

Still holding onto Ron, Bryt turned yet again to see Ginny kicking at a Death Eater who now had her by the ankle while the two floated by a model of Pluto. Luna, nearby with her hair floating wildly around her, lifted her wand and shot off a reductor curse at the planet and it exploded, sending the Death Eater flying, but also caused a sickening crack to fill the air as Ginny screamed.

The four began to sink again, Bryt feeling both relieved that the Death Eaters were out of the way and worried about Ron and Ginny's safety. Once on the ground, Ginny cried out again and collapsed and Luna made her way over, offering her a hand up, which Ginny stubbornly refused.

"Your ankle okay?" Bryt asked weakly, still holding onto Ron by the arm as he continued to chuckle madly.

"I...I don't know," Ginny whispered, her face pale.

Bryt stared around them, her heart racing faster than before. They needed a plan, but she wasn't a leader—she didn't know what to do...

"We...We need to get out of here," Bryt managed weakly, "Before more Death Eaters show up...Luna, can you help Ginny?"

"I can walk myself," Ginny shot back.

"That ankle's probably broken, don't make it worse," Bryt replied, "Come on, we have to go."

Bryt had to literally yank Ron along to get him moving and they started off for the nearest door as quickly as they could. They all seemed to reach the door at the same time and went through it so quickly, they tripped and went sprawling through on the other side.

"Ron! Bryt! Ginny, Luna, are you all—"

"Harry!" Ron started laughing again, though Bryt felt immense relief at seeing Harry and Neville, a relief that turned to horror when she noticed Neville carrying Hermione's limp form over his shoulder.

"Hermione!" Bryt gasped, rushing forward.

"She's alibe," Neville said and Bryt felt a wave of relief—she also noticed Neville had a broken nose, "She gob hib with some curse—"

"Ron too," Bryt said weakly, looking over to where Ron was still bleeding from the mouth, gripping the front of Harry's robes and laughing madly over his Uranus joke again, "I don't know what's wrong with him..."

"We've got to get out of here," Harry said, "Luna, can you help Ginny?"

"It's only my ankle, I can do it myself!" Ginny protested, but collapsed before she fully got on her feet. Luna put an arm around her to brace her up again as Harry braced up Ron. Bryt stood between the two and Neville, who was carrying Hermione, suddenly feeling a bit useless. She gripped her wand tightly, glancing around them as she followed Harry towards the nearest door.

They were just about there when one of the other doors burst open and several Death Eaters, including Bellatrix, came rushing through. Bryt froze instantly.

"_There they are!_" Bellatrix screamed.

Several Stunning spells rushed past Bryt's head towards the Death Eaters, snapping Bryt from her daze. Flushing from frustration and embarrassment, she turned and helped rush everyone through the door just in time to slam it shut before the Death Eaters reached them.

"_Colloportus!_" Harry yelled, aiming his wand against the door. Bryt silently cursed herself for not thinking about that in the planet room. If she had, maybe Ron and Ginny would still be okay.

"It doesn't matter!" a Death Eater on the other side yelled, "There are other ways in—WE'VE GOT THEM! THEY'RE HERE!"

"Luna, Neville, Bryt—help me!"

Bryt nodded, running towards the nearest door, suddenly realizing they were back in the Brain Room. Bryt shuddered as she passed the tank.

"_Colloportus!_" she yelled when she reached the door, aiming her wand at it, then took off for the next.

Bryt heard Luna cry out nearby and she spun around to see the Ravenclaw being flung through the air before she hit a desk and collapsed onto the floor. Bryt stopped cold, staring, horrified.

"Get Potter!"

Bryt looked up to see Bellatrix had gotten into the room, as well as several other Death Eaters. Bellatrix launched herself at Harry, who managed to dodge just in time. Bryt stared, her heart pounding and her mind screaming at her to move, to help, but she remained frozen on the spot.

"Hey!" Ron called nearby, "Hey, Harry, there are _brains_ in here, haha, isn't that weird, Harry?"

"Ron..." Bryt managed, staring, horrified, as she saw Ron was on his feet, stumbling his way towards Harry—right into the line of fire, "No, Ron...No..."

Bryt couldn't move. Her body was like ice and all she could do was stare as Ron pointed towards the tank with his wand.

"Honest, Harry, they're brains—look—_Accio Brain_!"

The lid of the tank exploded and one of the brains went flying through the air—straight at Ron.

"No...Ron..." Bryt whispered, her mind screaming at her to move. This was _Ron_. This couldn't be happening. Not Ron.

"Harry, look at it," Ron said as the brain landed near him, "Harry, come touch it, bet it's weird—"

"RON, NO!" Bryt screamed, the hold finally seeming to snap and she took off running towards him, but it was too late. Ron had already grabbed hold of the brain, which immediately began wrapping long tentacles around him.

"RON!" Bryt screamed again, reaching him and aiming her wand at the brain, but she had no chance to cast a spell. She heard something behind her, followed by an explosive pain shooting through her left shoulder. She went ridged, wanting to cry out, but she had no idea if she did. She didn't even know if she fell. All she could remember was the fiery pain, followed by a sweet bliss of her world going black.


	46. Aftermath

Muffled voices seemed to come from far away, slowly pulling Bryt back from unconsciousness. The first thing she was aware of was that nothing hurt. There was no burning pain in her shoulder, though there was an odd sensation going through the left half of her chest and down her left arm. Trying to figure out what it was, Bryt lay still—realizing she was laying on her back on something soft—not wanting to open her eyes. She tried wiggling her fingers a bit, not finding it to hurt but still felt odd and she realized what the feeling was. Her shoulder and arm felt quite stiff, as if she were trying to move it through some type of thick pudding.

"Bryt?"

Bryt squeezed her eyes shut further, not wanting to wake up, but then she opened her eyes anyway and noticed two identical faces staring down at her. Bryt blinked several times, trying to pull her mind from a fog and slowly realized she was staring up at the relieved faces of her younger brothers.

"Where am I?" Bryt muttered, pushing herself up to a sitting position—and winced, letting out a curse under her breath. She didn't hurt, but her arm was so stiff. It was like trying to force a rusted handle of a water pump to move.

Realizing she'd just cursed in front of her brothers, Bryt glanced over at them. "Ignore what I just said."

"Like we haven't heard worse before," Mike said seriously and Bryt stared at him, trying to figure out who it was that's been cursing around her brothers. She wasn't going to be happy with whoever it was.

Then, Bryt remembered that her brothers shouldn't even be there. She had been in the Brain Room of the Department of Mysteries...She was trying to save Ron from one of those brains that was attacking him...Luna and Hermione were unconscious, Ginny and Neville wounded...the Death Eaters surrounding them...

"Bryt!"

Bryt turned and noticed Ron sitting up on a bed near her, looking extremely relieved. A bed on the other side of Ron held Hermione, who was also sitting up and looking pale and weak, but otherwise fine. Bryt looked around and finally realized where she was: The hospital wing at Hogwarts. They weren't alone, either. Aside from Mike and Drew, Natalie was sitting in a chair next to Luna, the two of them seeming to be in some deep conversation. Ginny was perched on the foot of Hermione's bed and Neville sat in a chair between Hermione's and Ron's.

"Thank Merlin you're okay," Ron went on and Bryt looked back at him. She noticed thick welts covered his arms and neck from where the brain's tentacles had wrapped around him.

Relief flooded through Bryt at seeing her boyfriend alive and well—even with the scarring. She pushed herself up more—ignoring the uncomfortableness in her arm—and wanted nothing more than to go over and hug him, but Madam Pomfrey walked into the room at just that moment, pushing a small cart with three trays of food and over a dozen different potions. Pomfrey looked around at the crowd gathered there and sighed.

"All right, it's dinner time, anyone not a patient is to get out," she said sternly.

"But Bryt just woke up!" Drew protested.

"She'll still be here in the morning," Pomfrey replied, "She needs all the rest she can get right now."

Mike and Drew both looked at Bryt as if they expected her to vouch for them. Despite everything, Bryt found herself grinning.

"Go on, I'll talk to you tomorrow," she said, "You can write Mom and Dad and let them know I'm fine."

It was clear from the looks on their faces that Bryt's instructions weren't one they were happy about carrying out. Bryt shooed them off again, however, and this time they reluctantly obeyed, shortly followed by Neville, Ginny, Luna and Natalie—the latter two seeming to still be in their conversation. Bryt vaguely wondered what imaginary creature or conspiracy they were so deeply in discussion about.

Pomfrey looked between Bryt, Ron, and Hermione, sighed once, then went to work. She started with Hermione and Bryt watched, shocked, as she started giving Hermione doses of potion after potion—all but three that were on the tray—before handing Hermione a tray of food and turning to Ron. Bryt, guiltily, hoped that she didn't have to take so many—especially considering the disgusted looks Hermione got after taking most of them.

It turned out Bryt only had to take two potions. She was still a bit in a daze, so she missed what exactly Pomfrey was saying about the curse that hit Bryt, just that it had practically destroyed her robes and shirt—Bryt mentally groaned, realizing that she was going to have to buy new robes over the summer and over the fact that the shirt destroyed had been her favorite. It also seemed as if Bryt was most likely going to have scarring across the upper left half of her back, and that she was supposed to take it easy and not over-exert her left arm until she was fully healed.

Pomfrey left again to let the three eat in peace, heading off to a far cot where Bryt noticed the unmistakable form of Umbridge, apparently having been rescued from the Forbidden Forest. Bryt found an odd sense of satisfaction seeing her there, still feeling the woman got exactly what she deserved, then suddenly turned towards Ron and Hermione.

"How'd we get here?" she asked, "Where's Harry? Is he okay?"

"Harry's fine," Ron said, "He was here earlier this morning—"

"How long have I been out?"

"All day," Hermione said, "I came to a bit before lunch—"

"What happened at the Ministry?" Bryt asked, circling back to her first question, suddenly regretting asking how long she'd been unconscious—she didn't want to think about how long her brothers had been staying in here, waiting for her to wake up. "Last I remember, the Death Eaters had us in that room..."

"One of them hit you with some curse, I don't know what it was," Ron said, his face going a bit pale, "But it was nasty...You were bleeding really badly..."

"Harry and Neville lured them away," Hermione said, "Neville told us about what happened after I woke up earlier."

Both Hermione and Ron looked grim and Bryt got a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"What happened?" she asked, dreading the answer.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look and Bryt leaned forward on her bed, ignoring the stiffness of her arm as she did so.

"What. Happened?" she repeated, emphasizing both words.

"Neville says that some others showed up in the middle of the fight," Hermione said quietly, "Lupin, Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, Kingsley, and...Sirius."

The way Hermione said his name and gloomy, almost painful looks on her and Ron's faces told Bryt all she needed to know about what happened. She felt sick, her appetite for dinner suddenly gone as she stared at Ron and Hermione.

"He's..." she started, but couldn't finish. Hermione nodded, looking on the verge of tears.

"Apparently, Bellatrix hit him with some spell and he fell through that weird arch," Ron said quietly, "He's gone."

Bryt just stared at them, not wanting to believe what she was hearing. Sirius was dead? They had gone to the Ministry to save Sirius—even though that had been a trap—leading Sirius to come to save them. And it had cost him his life. Bryt felt sick, as if she'd just lost a favorite uncle.

"How's Harry taking it?" she finally managed.

"He hasn't said anything," Ron said, "And we haven't asked yet."

"Maybe I should talk to him," Bryt said, "I mean, I have a good idea of what he's going through..."

Hermione and Ron both got understanding looks. Bryt didn't like talking about the death of her grandparents, but this was different. She had a feeling she could help Harry now that he was going through something similar.

She just hoped Harry would let her help.

**xxxxx**

The next day, Bryt had to deal with an extremely lengthy letter from her parents over Bryt's 'carelessness' about 'running off in the middle of the night' and also assuring her that she'd 'be grounded for the rest of her life'. Bryt couldn't blame them for being angry and she knew they were right. She had been extremely careless and it had cost Sirius his life—and nearly got herself and others killed as well. Being grounded was being let off easy.

They had a steady stream of visitors throughout Saturday—Neville and Harry both only stayed for a short time, Harry leaving the second Bryt tried to speak to him about Sirius, much to Bryt's annoyance. Ginny stayed the entire day, as well as Mike, Drew, Natalie, and Luna—the latter two once again spending more time talking to each other than with the rest of them. Bryt couldn't help but think it was great that Luna finally had someone at Hogwarts that she could have serious conversations about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks or Blibbering Humdingers, or whatever imaginary creature _The_ _Quibbler_ featured.

By Sunday, Bryt was getting extremely restless. Her arm still felt like a rusted-shut handle, but she was hating laying around in bed all day. She began bravely ignoring Pomfrey's orders—but only when the woman wasn't around—and would get up to walk the length of the Hospital Wing, eager for any type of exercise she should get. She had already taken two laps before she got her copy of the _Sunday Prophet_, and once again she risked getting on Pomfrey's bad side by sitting with Ron on his bed rather than her own. This time because of her and Ron's formed tradition of reading the paper together—it felt weird to have a newspaper in her hand and not feel Ron pressed up against her side, reading over her shoulder.

Everyone was visiting again that Sunday and all of them were eager to hear about the news when Bryt noticed the headline of the front page:

**HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS**

"Good to see they're finally acknowledging it," Bryt said grimly, folding out the paper, then deciding to read it out loud for everyone to hear:

_ In a brief statement Friday night, the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned to this country and is active once more._

_ "It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord—well, you know who I mean—is alive and among us again," said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. "It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. We believe that the dementors are currently taking direction from Lord—Thingy._

"Lord Thingy?" Bryt laughed, "Maybe I should start calling him that."

"Bryt, just continue," Hermione said, staring intently at the paper. Bryt rolled her eyes and went on:

_ "We urge the magical population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defense that will be delivered free to all Wizarding homes within the coming month."_

"And what about Muggleborn homes?" Bryt asked bitterly, then regretted it when he noticed her brothers going pale, "Listen, I'm sure Emily will help us out, and Hermione, too." Even though the two looked a bit relieved, she had a feeling they were thinking about the same thing she was: what about all the _other_ Muggleborns and their families?

"Bryt, continue," Hermione said quietly. The look on her face showed she was thinking the same thing as well. Bryt nodded, turning back to the paper:

_The Minister's statement was met with dismay and alarm from the Wizarding community, which as recently as last Wednesday was receiving Ministry assurances that there was "no truth whatsoever in these persistent rumors that You-Know-Who is operating among us once more."_

_ Details of the events that led to the Ministry turn-around are still hazy, though it is believed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and a select band of followers (known as Death Eaters) gained entry to the Ministry of Magic itself on Thursday evening._

_ Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reinstated member of the International Confederation of Wizards, and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was unavailable for comment last night. He has insisted for a year that You-Know-Who was not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but recruiting followers once more for a fresh attempt to seize power. Meanwhile, the Boy Who Lived—_

"There you are, Harry," Hermione cut in, "I knew they'd drag you into it somehow."

Bryt lowered the paper to her lap, looking at Harry sitting at the end of the bed, his expression unreadable. After that first attempt, Bryt hadn't tried to talk to Harry about Sirius again. She was either going to wait for him to bring it up or try and get him at a time where he couldn't walk away from her.

"He's 'the Boy Who Lived' again now, though, isn't he?" Ron asked, picking up a couple of chocolate frogs—ones that Fred and George had sent him as a get-well present—and offered one to Bryt. She took it with a grin.

"At least Harry's no longer a show-off psychopath," Natalie said bluntly from where she sat next to Luna.

Bryt looked back at the paper, skimming over the rest of the article.

"Yeah, they're turning him into a hero again," she said, "_'a lone voice of truth...forced to bare ridicule and slander...'_"

"I bet they don't mention they were the ones doing all the ridiculing and slandering, though," Hermione said.

"Nope, they don't," Bryt said, looking through the paper, Ron looking over her shoulder, "There's more articles. Voldemort's attempt to take over, what the Ministry's been hiding, An 'exclusive' interview with Harry that's actually the same one from _The Quibbler_..."

"Daddy sold it to them," Luna said, "He got a very good price for it too, so we're going to go on an expedition to Sweden this summer and see if we can catch a Crumple-Horned Snorklack."

Natalie perked up at that and, once again, the two girls were lost in a conversation with each other. Bryt rolled her eyes at them.

"So anyway, what's going on in school?" Hermione asked.

"Well, Flitwick's got rid of Fred and George's swamp," Ginny said, "He did it in about three seconds. But he left a tiny patch under the window and he's roped it off—"

"Why?" Hermione asked, looking almost horrified.

"I think he wants to leave a monument to Fred and George," Mike said with an almost devilish grin, looking as if he approved whole-heartedly—Bryt made a mental note that she probably needed to keep a closer eye on the boy in the future. Natalie was beginning to be a bad influence.

"How's everything been with Dumbledore back?" Bryt asked.

"Everything's settled right back down again," Neville said from where he sat between Hermione and Ron's beds.

"I s'pose Filch is happy, is he?" Ron asked sarcastically.

"Not at all," Ginny said, "he's really, really miserable, actually."

"Probably thought Umbridge was some heaven-sent angel," Drew said bitterly, glaring towards the far side of the room where Umbridge was laying. It was rare when Drew hated someone—of course, Umbridge was the type who everyone hated. Except Slytherins, apparently.

"Madam Pomfrey says she's just in shock," Hermione said, following Drew's gaze.

"Sulking, more like," Ginny said.

"Yeah, she shows signs of movement if you do this," Ron said, then started making clicking noises that sounded similar to a horse walking. Umbridge suddenly sat up quickly, a wild look on her face.

Bryt elbowed Ron in the side, but couldn't help but grin herself. She heard Pomfrey's office door begin to open and she hurried over, getting back into her own bed before the school nurse stuck her head into the room, looking at Umbridge.

"Anything wrong, Professor?" she asked—even though Umbridge had been removed from her position at Hogwarts a few days before.

"No, no," Umbridge said, slowly laying down again, "No, I must have been dreaming..."

Bryt smirked, then once Pomfrey was back in her office, moved back and sat next to Ron on his bed again.

"Speaking of centaurs," Hermione said, "Who's Divination teacher now? Is Firenze saying?"

"I hope so," Mike said, "Since Natalie and I both signed up for the class next year."

Practically everyone stared at Mike as if he'd lost his mind, though he just shrugged in response. Bryt wondered if Mike even paid attention to all the times Bryt's complained about the class over the past three years.

"I think he and Professor Trelawney are both going to teach," Drew said, "At least, Professor Sprout mentioned it to a fourth year who asked her earlier today."

"Bet Dumbledore wishes he could've got rid of Trelawney for good," Ron said, "Mind you, the whole subject's useless if you ask me, Firenze isn't a lot better..."

"I thought he was great," Bryt said, "Besides, we know now real prophecies actually exist. Though I still doubt Treloony's got any real talent."

"It's a pity the prophecy broke," Hermione said, referring to the fact that Neville had told them that the sphere had been smashed in the middle of the fight with the Death Eaters.

"Yeah," Ron said, "Still, at least You-Know-Who never found out what was in it either."

Harry suddenly stood up, straightening his robes.

"Where are you going?" Bryt and Ron asked together.

"Hagrid's," Harry said, "You know, he just got back and I promised I'd go down and see him and tell him how you three are..."

"Oh, all right then," Ron said, almost looking as if he were pouting, "Wish we could come..."

"Say hi for us," Bryt said, grinning a bit.

"And ask him what's happening about...about his little friend," Hermione said and Bryt had to fight back a laugh. Grawp was in no way 'little'.

Harry nodded and started towards the door and a wild impulse went through Bryt. She suddenly called out to Harry, straightening up next to Ron. Harry stopped and turned, looking over at her.

"It's going to be okay, you know," she said, feeling as if it were now or never and just hoped Harry would understand her meaning—understand that she'd been through the same thing once and was trying to help, "With Sirius. Eventually. It'll be okay."

Bryt didn't know if Harry believed her or not, but he gave a small nod before heading on out of the room. Bryt sighed, leaning against Ron and closing her eyes. She knew she was right. Eventually, they'd all be better again. She just couldn't help but wonder how long that would take.

**xxxxx**

Bryt found herself eager for the trip home on the Hogwarts Express. Her fifth year had been long and tiring and one she'd rather forget. She wanted to be home with her family, happily staying under the grounding that her parents had set forth on her.

The ride home had been very quiet—broken only by the time when Ron found out that Ginny had broken up with Michael Corner, which he was overjoyed about, and was now dating Dean Thomas, which Ron wasn't happy about at all. Bryt had to hit him upside the head to get him to sit back down.

When they reached King's Cross, Bryt gave her good-byes to her friends, promising to keep in contact over the summer, before catching up with Mike and Drew. The three went through the barrier together, heading through the crowd to meet up with their parents. The first thing Bryt did when she saw them was go straight to them and hug them both.

"You're still grounded," Mr. Watkins said and his wife glared at him, obviously not in the mood for jokes. Bryt sighed, watching her.

"Mom, I'm really sorry," she said quietly, "I...I know it's no excuse, but we thought we were helping...I...I know what we did was stupid...I know sorry doesn't even begin to cover it..."

And right there in the middle of the crowded train station, Bryt began giving every apology she'd been thinking about for the past year—every reassurance she could think of that no amount of magic could ever replace her family. When Bryt finished, she just stood there, staring at her mother while Mike, Drew, and Mr. Watkins just stood nearby. Bryt bit her lower lip, gripping her bracelet tightly in her hands and staring down at her mother's shoes, not daring looking up. She was afraid to see the look on her mother's face. She didn't want to look up and see the hurt or anger or whatever else. Bryt braced herself, waiting for Mrs. Watkins to lash out, or to tell her curtly to get in the car and then proceed to give her the silent treatment the entire ride home.

So Bryt nearly fell over in shock when her mother pulled her into a tight hug. When she let go, Bryt looked up, then regretted it when she noticed her mother was crying. At the same time, however, she was grinning at Bryt.

"Let's get you home, Bryt," was all she said. It was all she needed to say. She was forgiven. Even though Mrs. Watkins had every right not to, she had accepted Bryt's apology and was willing to move on. All of Bryt's worries for the past year were over. And Bryt was determined not to let her mother think she preferred the magical world again.

Bryt found herself grinning, letting her father take the trolley with her trunk and Joey's cage while Bryt hugged her mother, then stayed latched to her as they started out for the parking lot.

She was going home, right where she belonged.

* * *

**A/N:** This brings Year Five to an end, thanks to everyone who's stuck through it. Year Six will be starting soon, so keep a look out for that! In the meantime, I've written a one-shot entitled "Helpful Advice" that has already been put up, which is a scene I had been hoping to have in this story, but could never work in. It's an idea I didn't want scrapped completely, though, thus the one-shot written for it.

Again, thanks to everyone who stuck through and left such great, helpful reviews that inspire me to keep writing and improve my work. Year Six is just around the corner!


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